Finding You
by myztik
Summary: He didn’t know what the future held for him. All he knew was if Hermione believed that it could work out… then dammit, he believed it too. He, surprisingly, found comfort in her words, her smile and her concern – and for now, that was all he needed.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was the summer holidays, and Hermione couldn't endure being so far away from the place she considered her home, and the place that right at this very instant was at the edge of grave peril, Hogwarts. It's only been a week since Dumbledore's death, and it was a week filled with magical mischief, she was so sure, in the wizarding world, though she had no steadfast proof that the muggle killings the past week was directly related to the Death Eaters. Proof or no proof, she knew. But distant she was, as she sat in her bedroom, that hasn't changed much since she entered Hogwarts, six years ago. She hadn't bothered with redecorating, since she spent 10 out of the 12 months per year at Hogwarts. There were times when she felt that 2 months spent at home, with her parents, was way too little. But right at this minute she'd have given anything to be back at Hogwarts, or at the Weasley's, helping the Order, being useful somehow, because at home she felt helpless and weak. All her parents could think about was taking her to the beach or to see a movie or some inconsequential affair that didn't really matter to her. It wasn't that her parents didn't care about what was happening in the other world, they simply didn't know. Hermione plainly didn't tell them; afraid that they wouldn't send her back to Hogwarts the minute they knew that their daughter's life was being put in danger.

It was just a little past supper and the night sky was barely subdued, though not a single star was at sight. Hermione looked out her window into the empty street down below. So quiet, so undisturbed, as though nothing in the world was wrong. Tears filled her brown eyes as she remembered the Headmaster and reconciled the fact that she would never see him again. Then, as she turned to sit back in her bed, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw movement. Of what or where exactly, she wasn't sure. She waited, looking in all directions, waiting for the same, struggled budge. But minutes passed and nothing came. More minutes passed and Hermione gave up.

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* * *

She was walking back home, from a short trip down the road to the grocer's for a bit of shopping errands her mum made her do. With the brown paper bags between her arms, Hermione looked up at the night sky and tried to find a single star. But there wasn't. It was as though all the stars went out the night Dumbledore passed, for she hasn't seen one since then.

Hermione looked down the road, and from where she was standing, she saw that same struggled movement. But of what, still she wasn't sure. And it didn't help either that it was a dark night. She hurriedly walked over towards the bush where she saw, well, something. She bent over to peer into the thick twigs of the bush. But she saw nothing. Not even when she rounded back to behind the long row of green brambles. She sighed in frustration. Then she thought of something mightily frightening, whatever was making those motions had to be something magical. For it seemed to disappear too quickly for a muggle, or animals, for that matter.

Back in her bedroom, later that night before she went of to sleep, Hermione stood by her window and looked down the street and stared at the bush. She may not know what it was, but at least now she had an idea of where it could be. Unless, of course, if it decided to relocate. Hermione was strangely happy to realize that whatever was hiding out there hadn't relocated, for she saw that struggled movement again - and a flash of something yellow.

She ran quick, and was lucky to remember to grab her robe to wear over her pajamas, and stumbled down the stairs and out onto the street. She then quietly approached the bush, dismayed that she had forgotten to bring a flashlight. But even in the dark, she knew she wouldn't see anything – there was nothing to see. Perhaps an invisible cloak hiding something, or someone, she thought to herself. Then she found a long, thin branch on the ground and began poking, until she found herself jabbing at something she couldn't see, lying behind the bush. She bent down to remove the cloak that she was now certain was covering something down there. She felt no cloak, but there was a person, of that she was now more sure. But what was making it invisible?

Hermione walked around the bush and started towards the person, when he suddenly began to appear. Slowly, the shape began to form, the colors started to fill in, and there, lying in a heap on the filth, his face bloodied, his robes torn, and his blond hair awry, was Draco Malfoy.

* * *

He fled into the dark forest, not knowing where to go or what was happening back up in the castle. All he knew was that the task has been accomplished. Dumbledore was dead. But it wasn't he, Draco Malfoy, who had completed the task given to him by the Dark Lord. Rather, it was Snape who had whipped out his wand and performed the unforgivable killing curse. It doesn't matter that Draco had spent grueling hours inside the Room of Requirements, formulating a plan and went about fixing that damned cabinet, for in the end, all those tormenting trials that almost cost him his sanity will still lead him to the Dark Lord's evil punishment. And he knew, as most of the Death Eaters already figured out, that You-Know-Who would soon be after him – to finish him off for not completing the task.

He had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, not even his mother. For he knew that although his mother loved him dearly, she feared the Dark Lord even more. So he fled, into nowhere, into somewhere, vying for time until he could think up of a way to survive. He kept on running, blindly placing foot after foot, aimlessly wandering, hoping against hope that he would not be found. He traveled for days until he forgot how many times the sun had risen and set.

He lived off the earth, for the first time in his life feeling what it was like to starve, to thirst and to fatigue. Initially it was easy, he saw it as some sort of adventure, picking berries, and building fires, magically catching fishes in the lakes, and while he was near Hogwarts he could also command food to come to him with a little help from his trusty wand. But as he traveled further and further away from the castle, he found it harder to procure food from the kitchens.

At nights he would lie under trees, beneath the starless skies, and pretend he was in his own bed. He would often fend off centaurs and was delighted when he would spot unicorns now and then. But most of the time, the thing that got to him was the troubling thought of Voldemort's revenge, and that when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came for him, he had no one to turn to, no one to help him, not even Snape, and especially not Dumbledore.

Then he found himself grow weaker and weaker, miles away from Hogwarts, starving, faint and unmistakably wounded, an upshot of physical, emotional, mental and psychological warfare against the unknown. But he continued to ramble on forth, he must've been on the edge of Britain by now, he had no idea, all he knew was that he must go on. He stumbled forth until he was too exhausted to go on any more. He crawled towards a mulberry bush and gave in to the weariness that consumed him. Scared that someone, specifically You-Know-Who might spot him, he cast an enchantment upon himself that turned him invisible, unless he was sure that the individual who found him intended him no harm. This took most of his energy. Then he fell into a deep sleep.

There would be times when he felt severe hunger, he would twitch and shake, and he would clutch his stomach until he could no longer feel anything. Sometimes, he would wake, look around him, but all things were a huge blur now – mixture of green, brown and yellow. There would be cars passing by, dogs coming to take a sniff, sometimes growl at him, children would sometimes pass him as they went to and from school, but by and by the sounds melted into one, and he could no longer make a distinction between them.

Until one dark night, he assumed it was night though it was always dark to him, when someone picked his head up and laid it on something soft and swept his hair away from his wet face. He tried his best to open his eyes with all the energy he could muster and saw beautiful brown hair. He opened his mouth, trying to say something. The angel who held him gently quieted him with a soft "shhh…"

"Gr… Granger…" he whispered, before falling back into the depth of the abyss he had just awoken from.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hermione gasped upon seeing Draco Malfoy all bloodied up like that. A part of her felt that he deserved whatever pain had been bestowed upon him – he must've done something to warrant the affliction. But deep down, Hermione knew no one deserved to be left to die like that. He may be a conceited, arrogant prat, but all the same he was still a child.

She knelt on the ground next to him, gently lifted his head up and placed it on her lap and took off her bathrobe and wrapped him in it. She then noticed that he had opened his eyes and was staring intently at her, his mouth trying to voice out something, but he looked as though it was taking most of his energy to even move his lips.

"Ssssh…" Hermione whispered.

"Gr… Granger…" Malfoy stammered before closing his eyes once again and falling back to sleep.

"Bloody hell," Hermione muttered to herself. "What do I do now?"

Hermione grabbed Draco's wand from his hand and quickly tried to come up with something, anything, to solve her problem. "_Wingardium leviosa_," she recited, with a flick from the wand, levitating Draco and she led him into her home, not caring if their neighbors got a glimpse of a floating wounded body, and down to the basement where she figured her parents rarely went. She laid him down on the floor and turned on the light.

"Now what?" she said to no one in particular. She looked down at his dirty, thinning, wretched body and immediately climbed up the stairs. When she returned she had with her a basin of hot water, a couple of lemons, a knife and a face towel.

She knelt down on the floor, grabbed the knife and began slicing the lemons in half before squeezing the juice into the basin of water. She then dipped the towel in the solution and began wiping the blood, sweat and dirt off Draco's face and arms.

As she looked upon the frail body of the boy who loathed her, she began to weep as she continued wiping the grime away from his handsome face.

"No one deserves this," she whispered. "Not even… Well, maybe the Death Eaters and Voldemort deserve to die a slow and painful death, but not you…"

* * *

Draco stirred in his sleep and felt a fuzzy thing against his face. It felt warm and comfortable. And there was something else that triggered his senses, though he was not yet sure what it was exactly. He sniffed the air, and realized he recognized the scent of lemons – he could actually detect scent now. He opened his eyes and sat up. Wrong more. His world suddenly began spinning out of control. Everything around him was a whirlwind of colors and shapes. Confusion taking the best of him, he screamed.

"What's wrong!" a voice he recognized asked him. But he couldn't answer. He kept screaming as everything just spun around him. He grabbed his head and shut his eyes as he continued attempting to scream the faintness away.

"Aaaaarrggghhh!" he wailed.

"Stop it," the voice demanded. "Thank God my mum and dad had just left, else they'll really give you something to scream about."

But Draco didn't yield to the order. He wasn't very good with commands given to him.

"Malfoy," the voice said more gently this time. "Lie down."

He then felt someone help him lie back down and wrapped the fuzzy thing back around him. "Don't sit up, you're in no condition for strenuous movement. Here, have something to eat."

Malfoy opened his eyes and saw in front of him a blurred version of what seemed to be… Hermione Granger. "What are you doing here, _Mudblood_?" he asked disdainfully.

"Malfoy," Hermione spoke with a trace of annoyance in her voice. "As you might not have noticed this is _my_ basement in _my_ house."

"Then I'll file a case against you for kidnapping," Malfoy said a bit less hostile this time. He had a vague memory of someone helping him when he could not even think of living another day more. But he hated the fact that all suggestions point to the rescuer being the Mudblood Granger. And he also figured that he was in no position to argue with someone who was standing while he had no choice but to lie on the ground. "You might find yourself in Azkaban one day."

"I might even have your dear Death Eater father for a cellmate," Hermione lashed out. "What do you reckon?"

Draco glared at Hermione. Then turned his back on her and closed his eyes.

Hermione sighed. She didn't mean for it to turn out that way, but Malfoy just kept on getting her nerves. "If that's the way it's going to be, fine, then so be it. I've brought down some food for you. I'll leave it here, for when you feel like eating. You do need to eat I suppose," she said as she left a plate full of provisions beside Draco, then headed to climb the stairs.

"I'm not eating anything _you've_ touched, _Mudblood_," Draco said mulishly.

"Whatever you say, you insufferable git," Hermione said before closing the basement door behind her. But she was barely a foot away from the door when Draco pounced on the food, ravishing it as though he hasn't eaten for days, which in point of fact is the truth.

* * *

"Who does he think he is?" Hermione asked herself as she paced around her bedroom. Here she was, trying to be helpful, taking the risk of keeping him in their basement, giving him food and taking care of him, when for starters she wasn't exactly fond of his portentous arse. "Good for him if I kick him to the curb and leave him to fend for himself."

Hermione sighed. As far as she could see, she had no choice but to care for Malfoy till he was strong enough top survive on his own. But it was crazy to think that he would accept any sort of help, especially from her.

"I've taken his insults and verbal abuse for six years now, so what's the deal with just a couple more days?" she said aloud. "I just have to tolerate a bit more, just a bit."

She sat down on her bed and stared at the glass pane of her bedroom window. The sun outside was shining brightly and the birds perched on the tree beside her window were actually chirping. But she didn't see that, she didn't get that far, rather she looked intently at her reflection. She could see dark circles around her eyes and her hair was askew. She lacked sleep. She's been down in the basement the entire night, watching over Draco in case he woke up.

"Why does he have to be such a stubborn prick!" she yelled at no one in particular.

She stretched out on her bed and sighed. At this point she was just too tired to analyze things over, though many questions ran through her mind. For one, what was Draco Malfoy doing behind that bush, and invisible at that. There's the other question, if he was invisible, how come she saw him? Did the spell wear out? She never knew spells to fade without a reversible spell being cast first. But the most important issue was why he was so injured and bloodied up in the first place? What happened to him?

So many questions but none of them seemed to yield any answers at the moment. Maybe after getting some sleep she could visit Malfoy in the basement and unearth the answers to her dozen questions. So, for now, Hermione slept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hermione woke up with a start and immediately sat up in bed. She had heard someone screaming. It took her a moment to realize that the ear-piercing racket was coming from Malfoy who, she remembered, was in her basement.

"Good heavens," she muttered, getting out of bed and headed towards her door. "What in Merlin's beard could he be screaming about now?"

"Mudblood! I demand you to come down here this instant!" she heard Malfoy yell from the basement. "I will not tolerate this kind of treatment from you. Do you hear me? MUUUUUDDDDBBLLLLOOOOOOOODDD!"

Hermione had half a mind to storm into the basement and sock it into him for speaking to her in that manner in her very own home. It was either that or just locking him down there to die. But she simply clenched her fists trying to release the anger she felt inside and began screaming her head off as she marched towards the basement door.

"AAAAAARRGGHHH!" she shrieked as she opened the door. "I have _had_ it to _here_ with all your crap Malfoy," Hermione cried out, indicating with her hand how high exactly has she had it with Malfoy, her eyes blaring red with hatred. "Who the hell do you think you are, you stupid, inconsiderate, selfish bloody ingrate! Do you actually think I _enjoy_ keeping you here? Do you think I'm some sort of masochist who goes on and keeps herself surrounded with people who loathe her just because?

"I _hate_ the fact that it was I who found you. I hate the fact that I couldn't bear to leave you in the bushes to _die_. I would have if I could. But the fact is, unlike _you_, I have a _heart_. Do you know what that means, Malfoy? You know what concern is? Do you know what love is?"

Malfoy sat up and stared hard at Hermione, stunned that she actually reacted that way to him. He knew Hermione was often furious with him, but never in his wildest dream did he imagine her to explode like this. Finally snapping out of it, Malfoy simply smirked. "Are you saying you love me, Mudblood?"

This pushed Hermione's lips into a firm line. "No, I don't think you know anything about friendship nor love nor selflessness. You're a cold-hearted monster, an upshot of a terrible childhood, I suppose. Tell me, Malfoy, which of your parents loved you less?"

Sparks of fury flared from Malfoy's eyes. "Don't you _dare_ talk about my parents, you know-it-all Mudblood. You have no idea what you're talking about. And neither do you have the right to pass judgment on me. You have no clue as to who I am. Now," Malfoy said frostily. "If you don't mind, I'd much rather be alone. Forget that I called you."

With that he lay back down and turned his back to Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip. It seemed as though she had struck a nerve – and a very vulnerable one at that. She suddenly felt guilty. "Malfoy, I – "

"Save it, Granger," Malfoy spat out.

"But," Hermione stammered. She walked over to Malfoy's other side, to be able to see his face as she spoke to him. "I am sorry."

Malfoy just stared at her.

"Look," Hermione said as she knelt down beside him. "I really am sorry. I guess I was just – "

"I _said_ save it," Malfoy said frigidly, then turned his back to her once again. "I don't care what you have to say."

"Okay," Hermione said as she sat down. "You don't have to look at me. Just let me explain. You don't even have to care about what I have to say. I just want to say it, okay?"

When Malfoy didn't respond, Hermione took that as an "okay" and began to explain. "You see, for the past week I've been feeling confused. About so many things – Dumbledore, and Harry, about Hogwarts and of You-Know-Who. And I felt so helpless, so useless, you know, being stuck here at home. And I _hated_ that. I hated being so feeble. I hated not doing anything.

"And when I found you, lying there, behind that bush… I thought that _maybe_, even though I'm stuck here in the muggle world, I could do something to help. Even if it was helping _you_. It was something for me to do. Also, seeing you looking so frail, so defenseless," Hermione said, her voice shaking. "I don't know, it certainly wasn't _pity_, what I felt that night. But I felt something, and I don't even know why I cried when I found you, but I did. I'm not sure why you're here, why you looked the way you did when I found you, or why you aren't with your family… I have no idea of what happened after I got on the Hogwarts Express back home. But I knew I had to help you. It… broke my heart… to see you all battered.

"And Draco, I'm _so_ sorry for insulting you and your parents," Hermione said, tears now blurring her vision. "I had no right to do so. You're right, I don't know a thing about you, or how you were brought up. But I just got so frustrated because I couldn't properly help you out, because you wouldn't accept my help.

"Plus, you keep insulting me. For six long years, I've had to put up with you mocking Harry, Ron and me. And now, you're in a situation wherein _you_ need _my_ help, and yet you still won't forget about our differences and allow me to help you," she ended.

Hermione, ashamed that she was almost on the verge of a sob fest, quickly brushed away the tears that were about to roll down her cheeks.

"You cried when you found me, Granger?" Malfoy asked, his voice not revealing one bit of emotion save for curiosity.

"I…" Hermione paused. "Well… That's totally beside the point."

"I accept your apology," Malfoy simply stated. "Now, will you please leave?"

Hermione sighed. She just couldn't get him to soften up and accept her help. "Fine," she said as she stood up and walked to the stairs. "I'll just be upstairs if you need me."

* * *

Draco couldn't help but go over Hermione's words. He wasn't used to speaking of emotions and other fragile topics his father would consider to be frailty. But he found it somewhat consoling, albeit it _was_ rather uncomfortable. He was taken aback by Granger's bold sensitivity and her no holds barred manner of discussing her thoughts.

However, what he couldn't reconcile was: one, the fact that he needed help and two, there was only Granger there to help him. Accepting help from a muggleborn witch, his father would definitely punish him for that. It was like affirming his own weakness as compared to the strength of a Mudblood.

_But father isn't around now, is he?_ He thought to himself. _The bloody git got himself locked up in Azkaban, didn't he?_

"But she's still a Mudblood and one third of the Golden Trio," he said aloud, battling with himself.

He sat up and looked at his hands. They were clean. No blood, no dirt, no grime. Granger did a good job of cleaning him up. It was only then that he noticed that while his arms and face were filth-free, his robes were not. _Good job, Mudblood_.

"Grrraaaannnggerr!" Malfoy screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

**I've edited this due to something I read on The Leaky Cauldron. So I hope you do't mind. :) Cheers to all who've read and reviewed. This chapter is a bit rushed, but I do hope you've enjoyed what I've got so far. Anyway Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year to everyone. Happy reading. :D**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4**

"What could he _possibly_ want _now_?" Hermione whined to no one in particular. She gritted her teeth and mustered the strength to keep her cool. "I'll be buggered if I'm going to help him after everything that's happened. But, hell, I can't just do _nothing_ about it." Hermione got off her bed and once again trudged down their staircase.

""What's it this time, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she opened the door to the basement.

"Granger," Malfoy said, as he looked up. "What have you done to my robes?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered defensively.

"Bob's your uncle."

"What in Merlin's beard are you on about, Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "I'm feeling right knackered I think I'd feel better if I just slit my wrists. On second thought, _your_ wrists. So could you just _please_ try to make sense? I'm not asking for a lot. Just a tad bit."

"Think you're funny, Granger?" Malfoy said. "You haven't done anything with my robes. _Why_ haven't you done anything? What, you think I enjoy wearing filthy, bloodied up, torn robes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, your royal highness. I forgot. However, you're a pretty good wizard, with just a flick of your wand, you could have fixed it yourself. So why did you have to bloody scream for me?"

"Because, oh-so-smart Granger," Malfoy drawled. "My wand is not with me, as you might have noticed. And I know."

"You know what?"

"That you think I'm a spiffing good wizard."

"Whoever gave you that idea, Malfoy?"

"You did, when you said, and I quote, '_you're a pretty good wizard, with just a flick of your wand, you could have fixed it yourself_,' right Granger?" Malfoy smirked at this. "And now, you're just as red as the roots of Weasley's horrid hair."

_I'll just let this slip_, Hermione thought to herself. _Just give him what he wants and I'd be off snuggled under my duvet. But where the bloody hell did I leave his wand?_

"Well, Granger?" Malfoy sneered. "I'm waiting."

"Hold on," Hermione said as she remembered leaving it on the settee in their lounge a mere hour ago. "I'll go fetch your wand then clean you up."

* * *

"Malfoy?" Hermione said softly as she peeked through the gap between the door and the doorway. "You awake?" 

"I am now, thanks to you, Mud – I mean, Granger," Malfoy said hesitantly.

Hermione slowly entered the basement and studied Malfoy's face. "What's wrong with you?"

"I, uh –" Malfoy stammered. "Well, I realize that under the circumstances, it'd be best if I avoid using the M word. Seeing as how I _am_ in _your_ basement, sleeping on _your_ sheets and eating _your_ food, it would seem that I should be a proper guest, although I _am_ being held against my will."

"Oh where do you come off, Malfoy!" Hermione said. "If you're – "

"Stop it, Granger. I am just kidding. You're barmy, you know that?" Malfoy smirked.

"Actually, yes. Yes, I know that," she said with an almost smile. "Anyways, I was thinking, it's about half six, you must be hungry."

"What do you have?"

"Well, my folks don't actually know you're here, so I can't feed you their food, as they might wonder where they're all going," Hermione said. "And I can't say I ate it all, that would be quite a bit of rubbish."

"So why did you offer me food if you can't give me any?" asked Malfoy, his eyes shooting darts.

"Well, I was thinking of going out to buy a couple of stuff."

"But that could take a while," Malfoy said. "Why don't you just conjure some?"

"Malfoy, you know I can't just... Wait, speaking of magic... Well, I was wondering about that actually," Hermione said thoughtfully. "As you know, we are not allowed to used magic outside of Hogwarts, right? When on holidays? But when I found you, I did use your wand to do some things, because I completely forgot about the rule. But then nothing. You know? I didn't get a letter, or a warning from the Ministry. No nothing."

"Of course," Malfoy said. "What with all that's been happening, I doubt they'd go looking for underage use of magic offenders. There's so much more to handle, I suppose. I'm not sure of what has been happening exactly, since I haven't heard from anyone in, I'm not sure how long I've been gone actually…"

"That's another thing, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly. "Why aren't you _there_? Why are you _here_?"

"Don't want to talk about that," Malfoy said, suddenly all ominous again. "Why don't you just grab my wand and conjure something up. With all this talking, I'm suddenly starved."

Hermione knew she shouldn't push the topic further, though she really wanted to know more. She walked over to the table where Malfoy's wand was and sat back down beside the sheets. "Oh, another thing, I can't just conjure something up. You know that, right?"

"Of course, I'm not daft," Malfoy said with a frown. "Why not? Just _refresh_ my memory."

"_Because_, Malfoy, conjuring something out of thin air would be likely to vanish after an hour or two, _re-mem-ber_?" Hermione said enunciating each syllable well as she rolled her eyes. "So I still have to go down to the grocer's to get stuff that would actually quench your hunger. Now, what do you feel like having?"

"Hmmm…" Malfoy said with a squint. "Maybe some bangers and mash, chips, fillet steak, cracklings, then for afters –"

"A bit peckish, now are you? Will _you_ be _paying_ for all these?" Hermione said as she raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was conjuring something just for you, I didn't know you were hiding an entire battalion down here."

"Hey, at least all I'm asking for are the main dishes and some afters, no need for starters, not really fond of them," Malfoy said with what seemed to look like a lopsided smile. "Besides, I haven't eaten a decent meal in yonks, and no I don't want to talk about it," he said as he noticed Hermione's expression and half-opened mouth that was about to ask something. "Plus, I'm not sure how good you conjure food, so I'll have to have a wide variety. So if one of them is botched up then I could go for the others."

"Okay, but I am a good food conjurer."

"So you say," Malfoy said as he smirked. "Now, as I was saying, for _afters_ maybe flakes, gateau, some treacle pudding, scones with cream and strawberry jam…"

"Want a cuppa with that, Lady Malfoy?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I'll let that rude comment pass, and yes, I would like some tea as well." Malfoy scoffed.

* * *

_"I warned you Draco," he heard the Dark Lord hiss. "Well, what can I expect? Like father, like son, I suppose? Lucius should have taught you better. But alls well that ends well, don't you think? Your father may be in Azkaban. A fate you will not have, as previous events have shown us. No, not Azkaban? And do you know why, Little Draco?"_

_Draco was standing in what seemed to be a huge empty dungeon. Dust filled the walls and grime stuck to the ground beneath their feet. The Dark Lord stood in front of Draco, the Death Eaters followed suit and encircled him. He noticed a shaking dark figure, whose face was half covered by a black hood. But he knew those lips. It was his mother._

_"Mum?" Draco whispered._

_The figure looked high enough for Draco to see her eyes. In those pair of frightful eyes he knew his mother had lost hope. Narcissa shook her head as a solitary tear rolled down her cheek._

_"Answer the question, Draco," Voldemort bellowed._

_"Because I have committed no crime in the eyes of the Misnistry," Draco said softly yet firm._

_"And yet you will find a sticky ending, as well, just like your dear father. You know why Draco?"_

_"Because I failed to complete my task, I did not kill Dumbledore."_

_"What a very intelligent boy we have here, don't we, Narcissa?" Voldemort sneered as he walked over to Narcissa Malfoy. "Very smart indeed, albeit a fool."_

_A few Death Eaters snickered. Voldemort turned to face them, his robe billowing behind him. "Crabbe! Goyle! You find that funny, do you? And what about you're little ones? I don't see them stepping up to the plate, now do I?"_

_"N-n-no my Lord," whispered the two._

_"Now, my dear Draco," Voldemort hissed. "Do you know what I have in store for you?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Are you prepared for your own story's ending?"_

_"No, but I guess I have no choice, now do I?" Draco said._

_Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger. "Crucio!" he yelled as Draco fell unto the cold, grimy floor and writhed in unexplainable torment. "For your cheek, Malfoy," Voldemort sneered. "Crucio!"_

_Draco felt so much pain till he thought he would be so numb and block out the intensity of the anguish that enveloped him. But to his dismay, the pain lingered on. If it was even possible, the agony just kept intensifying. He jerked and twitched on the ground, vaguely aware of his mother's cries. His eyes rolled back and his fingers stiffened and his back arched. He couldn't even scream out the pain he was feeling. He tried to open his mouth but no sound would come out._

_From afar he heard someone condemn him with a loud hiss. "Avada kedavra!"

* * *

_

**Enjoyed that? I hope so. Now, if you would be so kind as to go clickety-click-click on that little button down there and leave a short message (a.k.a. a review) for me, I would be delighted. Thanks! Tara!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hermione sleepily searched the refrigerator for some milk, reaching in with her hand she grabbed a carton and poured herself a healthy amount into a glass. It was a little past midnight and Hermione went down for a drink. She sat at the breakfast counter and began sipping from the cup. It seemed to her that it was going to be a long holiday. And to be perfectly honest she has been getting a little bit antsy to get back to Hogwarts, or at least back in the wizarding world. Finding Malfoy did raise her spirit a notch when it began, however she was feeling a bit discouraged by Malfoy's secrecy and defiance.

She had just downed the last bit of milk and placed the glass in the sink when she heard someone whimpering. _Draco!_ She thought to herself as she rushed towards the basement door. As she neared the doorway she could hear Malfoy groaning and crying as though in pain. The worst of the worst ran through her mind as she thought of all possible reasons for Malfoy's anguish.

Hermione bolted through the doorway and scuttled down the stairs and as Malfoy came into view she gasped and brusquely came to a stop. Malfoy was convulsing and contracting as he lay on the sheets, all the while wailing in agony. Sweat drops collected on his temples, his lips were nearly as white as the rest of his face, his eyelids were slightly opened and Hermione could see that his eyes have rolled back. His fingers were stiffly bent and his body was badly contorted. Hermione couldn't help shaking in place at the sight of Malfoy as tears shot up to her eyes.

As soon as she snapped out of the trance-like shock she rushed to Malfoy's side and hesitantly reached out to touch him. When she did he was as cold as ice and yet burned like flames. "Malfoy," Hermione cried out as she ignored the burning sensation on her palms as she tried to shake Malfoy awake. Without having to think twice, she grabbed Malfoy's wand from the ground beside her, flicked the wand and said, "_Ennervate_". It did not work however, and Hermione mentally slapped herself for she knew that the charm was used mainly to revive someone who has been stupefied. And Malfoy was not – he was asleep.

Hermione racked her brain for the correct spell and tried once again with a swish of the wand. "_Impervio insomnium! Impervio insomnium,_" she incanted repeatedly to rid Malfoy of his bad dream.

Then Malfoy's body became calm, his fingers began to unclench, his eyes settled themselves and color rushed back to his blanched face. Hermione placed her head on her open palms and began to weep. It was the most frightful scene she had to bear witness to and it pained her. She let the wand drop to the floor and allowed herself to be immersed in her grief.

"Don't."

Hermione looked up and saw Malfoy looking at her with weary eyes. "Oh, Malfoy. What happened?"

"I'm not sure," he said with an exhausted sigh.

"I… You gave me a fright," Hermione murmured, burrowing her head on her crossed arms that were propped upon her knees. "I thought you were… You know… gone."

Malfoy stirred and tried to sit up, but he winced as pain shot through his body. "I… I'm tired."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said as she looked up and saw fatigue written all over his pointed face. "I'll let you rest, maybe we can talk about it in the morning. I'll leave you now so you can have your calm." She picked up the wand and handed it over to Malfoy.

"No," Malfoy hurriedly said. "Don't leave me. Stay."

"I can't," Hermione whispered. "I…uh…"

"Please?" Malfoy implored. "Just stay?"

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Just let me get extra sheets," she said as she got up.

"We can share," Malfoy said pleadingly. "Just don't… I mean… I don't want to be alone."

Hermione looked at him. And in his deep grey eyes she knew he really was terrified. "Okay, I'll stay with you."

* * *

Hours passed and yet Hermione couldn't sleep. Every time she'd close her eyes the image of Malfoy, pallid and trembling in agony, flashed before her without fail. So she gave up on the thought of sleep. 

The night was still and the only sound she could hear was the steady inhale and exhale of air coming from both herself and Malfoy who lay still beside her. She shifted to lie on her side, she's been staring at the ceiling for hours and green circles were beginning to appear before her eyes.

"You're awake?" she heard Malfoy ask from behind her.

"Couldn't sleep," she whispered. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"When I close…" Malfoy had begun to say then quickly changed his mind. "You woke me up, now I just can't seem to fall back to sleep."

"Your dream, you're afraid of your dream, aren't you?" Hermione asked, noticing his unfinished statement. She turned around to face him and observed his expression.

"Don't look at me," Malfoy said in resentment.

Hermione complied. She knew how hard it must be for him to be seen at his weakest. After six years of barely knowing the boy, Hermione knew enough that he never cared to show emotions with those still grey eyes of his. And the fact that he kept companions, like Crabbe and Goyle, that some would consider followers rather than friends showed that he had aversion for familiarity. She rolled on her other side again. "Your dream, tell me about it."

"I'll tell you, but you cannot ask more questions," Malfoy said. "Promise?"

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"That's not enough," Malfoy said in an exasperated tone. "You have to say you promise."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "I promise not to ask more questions, Malfoy. Now can you tell me about it?" But she then bit her lip, she was sure she'd have a hundred of questions after hearing the story.

"I remember it vividly. And I was there, not sure where _there_ is actually. And so was You-Know-Who, and his Death Eaters, you know. Standing around me, a circle. My mum – my mother was there, as well. Crying," Malfoy said in a barely audible voice. But the still of the night allowed Hermione to hear every word he said. "It was dark, and dirty and You-Know-Who was talking to me. Asking me a lot of questions. Like if I knew why I wouldn't be in Azkaban. And why he had to give me a sticky ending like my father. Of course I know why, so I told him.

"Then he continued asking me if I was ready for my fate and of course I said no," he reasoned out. "No one is ever prepared to die…"

"That's not true," Hermione spoke up. "I do believe Professor Dumbledore was prepared."

"Did I ask for your opinion, you filthy little Mu – " Draco said vehemently. He took a deep breath and balled up his hands. "Shall I return to my dream?"

"I'm sorry, go ahead," Hermione said, now really tempted to turn and look at Malfoy.

"As I was saying, I wasn't prepared to die. So I told him so, but of course I have no choice, right?" he explained. "Once the Dark Lord has marked someone for death…"

"He dies," Hermione continued. "Oh, I'm sorry, go on."

"You're right, no one survives once he decides to kill that person," Malfoy said gloomily. "Except of course The Boy Who Lived To Be A Huge Pain In My Arse."

"Yes, only _Harry_ survived You-Know-Who," Hermione said, irritation palpable in her tone.

"So, _anyway_, I guess that was too much for him to take, you know, my answering back," Malfoy said as he closed his eyes shut tightly, but then he saw Voldemort before him again so he immediately open his eyes and sat up, gripping his forehead with both hands. "He… cruciatus…"

"Nooo," Hermione said, she herself was sitting up at this and staring hard at Malfoy.

"Again and again…" Malfoy's voice grew fainter, and he clutched his head tighter as though to push the image of the Dark Lord away from his mind. "And again… I remember lying on the ground, it was filthy, and cold and hurt against my back, but… but you couldn't tell the difference because as he continued to curse me, the pain from falling onto the hard floor and from the curse just melted into one extremely unbearable torture. Just when I thought I was just on the brink of… well, to put it uncompromisingly, death, I heard my demise coming at me… Avada…Avada Ke… Well, you know the rest."

Hermione stared at Malfoy, for the first time in her life realizing how fragile he could be. But he kept a cold front, even up until now. Trying to look calm, although his usual still grey eyes were now stormy and fiery, as he kept his breathing steady and his fingers clenched.

"You're just gonna stare at me like that, Granger?" Malfoy asked. "You're not going to say anything? Wow, that's a first. You usually have a dozen of things ready."

"I'm in kind of a shock, to be honest," Hermione said as she turned to look him in the eyes. "Malfoy, why did You-Know-Who want to – "

"You promised, Granger," Malfoy growled as he lay back down on the sheets.

"Oh, right…" Hermione said quietly. "No questions."

Hermione resumed to watching the ceiling. After being able to vividly imagine what Draco must have dreamt of it only made Hermione fear closing her eyes even more.

* * *

**You liked that? I hope you did. Well, go on and review. Thank you to all who have been reading this story. Cheers to you guys. And for those who are reading and have no plans of reviewing, I hope my cheery disposition would encourage you all to change your minds. :) ** **Please? Oh well, TTFN!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for all the reviews. Here's the next chapter. It's much longer, if you would pause to notice. 'Coz a lot of you have been commenting on the length of my chapters. So I think from now on, I'll have to make them lengthy. So anyhu, happy reading to you guys. And please update when you're thru. Thanks!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"I'm sick and tired of staying in this dark, dank underground place," Malfoy complained to Hermione, pacing around the basement.

Hermione stirred as she was still lying down on the sheets. "You're surprisingly dynamic today. I, on the other hand, am dreadfully all-in. Couldn't even close my eyes for five seconds the entire time. Terrible night, last night was, innit?" she said as she forced herself to sit up.

"Can't I get out of here?" Malfoy asked, ignoring Hermione's previous statement. "You _have _to realize, Granger, that no man in his right mind can stand being in such close proximity with you."

"How dare you," Hermione said as she stood up and glared at the blonde Slytherin. "For your information, Harry and Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors have never complained about my presence before," but as soon as she said it she knew it was a horrible lie. Truth be told, they always have whinged about her, even to her face. Nevertheless she knew they were, to an extent, thick enough to say this to her bluntly because they were her friends.

"See, enough proof," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Never did I meet a Gryffindor in his right mind. And you're dodging the subject entirely. I was asking whether we can get out of this place or not."

"We have to wait till my parents have gone off to work, you see," Hermione answered.

"And when is that?"

"Hermione, dear?" she heard her mum call from above. "Where are you?"

"Oh, crap!" she muttered. Then she turned to Draco and said, "You stay here and keep quiet and I'll be back right away." She stepped towards the back door of the basement, brandished her wand and opened the door with _Alohomora!_

Malfoy raised a single eyebrow in embittered admiration. Hermione was proving to be an accomplished witch and this slighted his pride and ego a bit. Her non-verbal incantation skills were far better than his own. If he had a galleon for every time he heard the phrase "_wisest witch of her age_" pertaining to the bushy-haired muggle-born, he'd probably be a whole lot richer. And it pained him even more so to realize that she wasn't all _that_ awful. As a matter of fact, he had, in the past hours he had spent with her, liked her company.

* * *

"Mum?" Hermione called out as she ran towards their front lawn. "Mum, I'm out here."

The front door opened and Mrs. Granger stepped out, a confused look on her pretty face. "What are you doing out here, honey?"

"I, er…beautiful day out?" she said awkwardly.

"Okay, you're father and I will go to work now," Mrs. Granger said as she walked towards Hermione. "So sorry we couldn't take the day off to spend more time with you. I know how much these holidays at home mean to you. But we promise to be home more often before you go off to the Weasley's for the remainder of the holidays. Okay?"

Hermione totally forgot about that. It had been arranged, even before school let out, that she would be going home to her parents for two weeks prior to going back to Ron's place. That had been the plan, and has been for a couple of years now. However, with the Malfoy issue at hand, she didn't quite know how that would turn out. It wasn't possible for her to show up at the Burrow with Malfoy tagging along, was it?

Mr. Granger then stepped onto the lawn and walked toward Hermione. "We'll be home by dusk, okay, sweetheart?"

"Sure, dad," she said as she tiptoed to kiss her father on the cheek.

"Bye, honey," her mother said as she kissed Hermione on the forehead. They then got into their car and sped off waving a goodbye to their daughter.

Hermione walked into the house and noticed Malfoy standing in the lounge, peering at photos displayed atop the mantel.

"Malfoy!" Hermione said. "I told you to stay downstairs! What are you doing!"

"Don't fuss about, Granger," he answered, his eyes still studying the picture of when Hermione graduated in the top of her class in prep school, a day before she received her letter from Hogwarts. "I made sure your muggle parents had left before coming up here. And what the bloody hell is this?" he said as he held up the framed photo of Hermione standing between her parents, a load of medals around her neck.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said as she walked towards the dining room. "Even _you_ can't possibly be that daft. They're called pictures, you know, the paper thingies that are the results of smiling at what we'd like to call a camera."

"Oh, shut up," Malfoy said as he followed Hermione into the next room. "I know they're photos. But what's the point in them if they're not even moving? Muggles can't be that stupid, can they?"

Hermione chose to ignore this and sat at the table and switched the television on. She flicked through the channels and settled for the BBC.

"That's what you call a veletision?"

"Television," Hermione corrected as she blankly stared at the small screen. "Or as we might prefer, the telly."

"That's better than muggle photos, I suppose. At least these little people are moving, and talking too!" Malfoy said as he inched the gap between his face and the screen.

"Sit down, Malfoy." She had better things to think about than moving and talking people inside the screen. Hermione was perusing through the possibilities regarding the problem of having Malfoy with her and the forthcoming trip to the Burrow.

"Looks like the muggle world isn't that different from our world," he commented, regretting just so when he heard his own statement, as the anchorwoman on the daily news reported of killings in the county of Loughton. "It's just as demented. I suppose that's the _only_ thing they have in common."

_"Residents of Loughton County in Essex are bolting their doors tightly shut tonight due to the malicious murders of Louis and Nicola Pedimouth. The couple was found dead this morning in their lofty country home. According to the authorities, the two Italian immigrants were found lying on the floor of their lounge, evidently lifeless. Neighbors of the Pedimouths were questioned pertaining to the heinous incident and all have reported that both man and wife had no apparent adversaries who would have committed such an atrocious crime."_

The pretty blonde anchorwoman, Cecile Bronte, shuffled her papers and smiled at the camera. Malfoy found this disturbingly strange. The only woman he knew who could smile while delivering a message as gruesome as she just did was his very own mother, Narcissa.

_"Most startlingly, however, the authorities that conducted the post mortem have also described the results as perplexing and unfounded. The Pedimouths were found to be unharmed and showed no signs of any ailment. Furthermore, the law enforcers present at the investigation were alarmed to give an account that the house on Season Road was found locked from inside and the only reason they had made any investigations at all was because neighbors had called the local law offices regarding suspicious flashes of bright green light from within the normally quiet home."_

Malfoy felt an odd stir in his stomach. Whirlwinds of realizations surmised in his mind. He turned slowly to face Hermione, who was staring at the TV, mouth dropped in awe and fingers gripping tightly onto the dining table.

"We've got to get out of here," she exclaimed, hastily standing up and pulling Malfoy along with her.

Malfoy pulled his arm away from Hermione and looked at her as though she had grown another head. "Now? We have to leave at this very moment?"

"You heard what the woman said, Malfoy," Hermione wailed. "You know as much as I do that that was no ordinary killings. It was the Death Eaters' doings, I'm telling you. And we have to move NOW!"

"I know it was them," Malfoy said. "But as far as I know they have no idea where I am. Or where you are. Why should we run for it, then?"

"Don't you listen Malfoy?" Hermione screamed as she run up the stairs and into her bedroom. Malfoy had to run double time to catch up to her. "The murders took place in Loughton County!"

"I heard that! I'm not just 'not daft', Granger, I ain't deaf too!"

"Well, you may not be deaf, but you're certainly daft!" Hermione yelled as she paced around her bedroom. "You might not know this, but Loughton County is just a town over. Do you even know where you are right now! This is Brentwood, Malfoy. Brentwood, Essex! They're coming for you. Now I'm not sure why, because just a couple of weeks ago I was certain you were one of them, but they are certainly on your trail!"

Malfoy stared at her with wide eyes. "That can't be right."

"Well it is!"

"What do we do now!"

"I…er… I think I have a plan," Hermione whispered. "But I truly doubt you'd go for it."

"Try me."

Hermione told Malfoy about her approaching trip to the Burrow and her "plan" was simply for him to go with her and convince the Weasleys that he wasn't a Death Eater and that he would join the good side. "They could hide you. And it would be much, much safer there than here," she said.

"I am not going anywhere near that shabby place and that blood-traitor of a family," Malfoy sneered; he looked at Hermione a trace of shock on his face. He then let himself fall onto her bed. "How dare you even suggest that?"

"Then what have you?" cried Hermione as she sat on the bed, right by Malfoy's feet. "What can we possibly do! You think of a plan then."

"I have nothing," Malfoy admitted.

"Then you have to acknowledge that my plan is a good one and the only reason why we're not doing it is because you're a hard-headed git!"

"I have no intentions of ever saying that, because for one thing, it's not true. Your plan isn't that great."

"Give me one reason why it isn't great."

"Well, for one thing…er…" Malfoy racked his brain for an excuse. "You don't go to the Weasel's until Monday next week, by that time, the Death Eaters might have probably made their way here."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, that can be arranged, can't it?"

"I'm not going – "

Just that second a Scops owl flew through Hermione's open window, an envelope attached to its leg. "Pig!" Hermione exclaimed. She then turned to Malfoy to explain, "It's Ron's owl."

"Looks stupid," Malfoy said. "And what sort of a name is Pig? And for an owl, no less. That Weaselby's as stupid as it gets."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes, she was used to Malfoy's criticism by now. She hurriedly detached the envelope from the owl's leg. "It's short for Pigwidgeon. The name is taken from a real, if esoteric, word meaning small."

"And I bet you just verbatimly quoted a book by the sound of that."

Hermione's cheeks felt hot. "I…er…okay, fine. I read about it on the internet."

"The inter what?"

"Nevermind."

"So what has little Ronny Weasy got to say?"

Hermione stared at Malfoy haughtily as she opened the letter. "Whatever is written in this post has nothing to do with you. So bugger off."

"Oh, it's a love letter, innit? Wonder what's happened to that ugly witch attached to Weaselby's lips the entire last year," Malfoy said more to himself than to Hermione.

"None of your business, now is it?" Hermione said harshly. Then she continued on to read the letter.

_Hermione,_

_How's the holidays treating you? I'm looking forward to your being here, Merlin knows how much I need a few friends and laughs 'round here. What with the war going on and mum crying relentlessly, Percy's still not coming home, you see. You'd think I'd have something to laugh about, having brothers like Fred and George, but no. They have been spending too much time in the shop of theirs, I reckon._

_Not much has changed 'round here. The Order is in full swing, I suppose. But of course I wouldn't really know much since they still refuse my presence on some occassions. And I thought that since I've already come to age they'd allow me in on their meetings. I have attended some, mind you, but I would rather prefer it if they didn't constantly keep stuff from me._

_Harry's still with the muggles, else he'd be in the meetings. But he just owled me last night and told me he'd be here by Monday. I think Charlie's fetching him from the Dursleys'. When will you be coming? We could send someone to fetch you._

_Owl back, okay? And please feed Pig a bit, I reckon he had a hard time. What, with all the extra security and stuff. See ya 'Mione._

_Yours,_

_Ron_

"They're expecting me to go there on Monday," Hermione muttered. "So what to do? What to do?"

"One thing I do know is that you don't have to come with me."

"I, er…" Hermione stammered. "You're right, I don't have to go with you. But… I… I want to."

"Why? You have a death wish or something?" Malfoy asked. "I don't need your help. I can do this on my own. I need to do this on my own."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not that I'm not thankful for all your help," Malfoy said quietly. "I am. If it weren't for you, I could've died. Thank you. But this is my problem. Something I ned to face on my own."

"I can't just let you go," Hermione whispered. "Not without knowing what you're about to face. I mean, I know that You-Know-Who is after you. But for what reasons… I don't know. I don't think I can live with myself knowing that I left you on your own to face the Dark Lord. If only… if only you'd tell me what's going on, Malfoy, then maybe I could help you."

"You've helped enough. Enough for me to owe you my life, okay."

"You don't have to owe me anything. I… I wish you'd tell me."

"You forget, you saved my life. For that there's a magical understanding that I cannot ignore. Unfortunately, that's the way things work. I owe you my life. As hard as that is for me to accept… it's the truth. So you have to understand, Granger, that I don't want to trouble myself more by having you come with me," Malfoy said as he stood up.

"Please," Hermione said as she followed Draco towards the door and stood between him and the exit, preventing him from escaping. "Tell me what you did so wrong for him to want to kill you. Tell me and I'll get out of your way."

"You promise?"

Hermione breathed in deeply. "NO!" she screamed and pulled at Malfoy's arm. "It was a desperate attempt to get you to tell me what's going on. Why won't you tell me? It couldn't be that bad, can it? It's not like you're one of us. For some reason I'm sure you're not a secret spy for the Order. And so far, that's the only reason I can come up with as to why he'd want to kill you. Please, just tell me. And then I can help you. I don't want to see you die."

"I've always thought you'd be glad to see me dead."

"What! No," Hermione said. "Never. You… you may be a pompus jerk, but I know, or at least, I hope, that there is some good in you. There has to be. Right?"

Malfoy broke down at this. He fell onto his knees and let gripped the ground in front of him. "You… you wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I did."

Hermione knelt on the floor to level herself with Malfoy. "What? That you fixed the Vanishing Cabinet to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts?"

Malfoy slowly looked up at her. "You _knew_?" he asked, his face ashen.

"Yes, I knew."

"And yet… and yet you helped me? Why?"

"Because you did not kill Dumbledore. Harry told me what happened up in the tower that night. He… he said you put your wand down. So I assumed…"

"Well, you assumed wrong! I could've _killed _him. I would've if only _Snape _hadn't gotten in the way. You don't know what I've done."

"Draco," Hermione whispered. "I know what you did. And it's okay."

"NO!" Malfoy said as he stood up and paced the room. "It's not okay. This is all my fault. I should've just did it when I had the chance to."

"Did you really want to?" Hermione asked as she turned to look at Malfoy from her place on the floor. "I don't think you did…"

"Hermione," Malfoy slurred. "Do you even know what I am!"

"A Death Eater?" Hermione said with brave nonchalance. And Malfoy just stared at her. She merely shrugged and said, "I figured that much out."

"And yet you helped me!" Malfoy said, enraged. "What is _wrong _with you! So you knew, and yet you've been buggin' the hell out of me the past days about telling you what happened!"

"Nothing is wrong with me. And I wondered if there was something more you've been hiding."

Malfoy continued to pace the room with his hands clenched and his face red. He was breathing faster and faster and you could see the veins on his temples bulge out. His hands were shaking and he kept muttering under his breath. And slwoly, tears began streaming down his face.

Hermione watched the boy in shock. She stood up and reached out for him. "Stop it, Draco. _Stop_," she said as she forced him onto the bed. "Breathe and calm down. Breathe, inhale, exhale…"

She continued to soothe him and he willfully obeyed. "We'll think of something. Don't worry, we'll sort this out."

* * *

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoyed this chappie. It was quite long. :-) I hope you take some time out to review this chapter and tell me if you liked it or not. Or if was too long or just right. Thanks a lot! TTFN!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hermione took Draco into her arms and slowly rocked him back and forth. She remembered how much this movement used to soothe her when she was much younger and would cry on her mum's shoulders. She could feel Draco shake and tremble between her arms, and this only made her tighten her grip around him. "Draco?"

Draco slowly looked up and into Hermione's eyes. They pierced right through him with more concern and sincerity he's ever been shown in his life. And it was beyond his disbelief that they were being directed to him from no less than the muggle-born witch he had been so intent on tormenting for the past years. He sat up straight and tilted his head to one side and stared carefully at the girl before him. He felt her hold on him drop. Draco raised his hand and gently touched her cheek with his index finger, and began tracing patterns on her smooth skin, across her cheek, down to her chin, up past her sultry lips and to the tip of her straight nose. He felt her shiver underneath his touch.

He felt himself falling into her and, unexpectedly, he allowed himself to until his lips touched hers. They were unmoving for seconds – simply lips upon lips, still and gentle – and yet he felt his soul soar to different heights. Then he opened his mouth to taste her lips – they were sweet and pure – and he found his curiosity rising, making him want to seek her other flavors. He took her face with both hands and deepened the kiss, opening his mouth and sucking on her quivering lips.

Then Draco stopped. He drew back inches and looked inquisitively at Hermione. She looked stunned. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

It took a while before Hermione shook her head. "Don't be."

"But I shouldn't have done that."

Hermione smiled, which somehow eased the aching that suddenly grabbed Draco from inside when he thought she would be against the kiss. "Why?" she asked, still smiling melodiously at him.

"Because… I'm me. And you're, well, you," Draco said, avoiding Hermione's questioning smile. "And you probably think I'm a dodgy character, which I probably am. And this will never be right, never in donkey's years would it even resemble being right."

"Draco," Hermione said, her smile transformed into a grin. "Shut up."

Draco's eyed widened as Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. Realizing what has just happened, he snaked his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her shoulders, enjoying the feel of their closeness and the enticing smell of cinnamon scented perfume. He had never felt as close to anyone else in his entire existence as he did at that very moment with the girl he used to know as Mudblood Granger.

He nuzzled his face into her neck and sighed. "This still does not solve anything."

Hermione released him and sat back up. "We have to have a lengthy chat then. You up for it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Draco. And never believe, or have anyone tell you, otherwise. You hear?"

When Draco didn't answer Hermione continued. "Harry told me of wise words Professor Dumbledore had given him once. He had said that 'It's our choices who make us who we are."

"What does this have to do with my problem?"

"It has _everything_ to do with your bloody problem. Draco, we all have to make the choice between doing good and doing evil. You may have been raised in a vile setting, but there comes a time in each person's life when we have to make our own choices, regardless of our childhood, of our upbringing," Hermione said, placing a hand upon Draco's shoulders.

Draco shook his head. "You're wrong. This is what is expected of me. I'm trapped, it's not like I can just bloody remove this ugly mark from my arm. It's _not possible_. And it won't change the past and the things I've done. It's not like I can just decide to be free from the Dark Lord whenever I want to. I'm _not_ free. Hermione, don't you get it? This is my destiny. Ever since I could remember, I always knew what was to become of me. And don't tell me I had a choice. I didn't. I'm not like you. I'm not free. It's hopeless."

"What are you _on_ about?" Hermione cried, disappointment evident in her tone. "If you assume that there's no hope, you guarantee that there'll _be no hope_. But if you assume that there is an instinct for freedom, there are opportunities to change things, there's a chance you may contribute to making a better world. _That's_ your choice."

"You make it sound easy," Draco seethed, standing up from the bed and paced up and down the carpeted floor. "But it's not. There's no way of turning your back on your destiny, on your family and especially on the Dark Lord. I cannot be free. Have you ever met the Dark Lord, Hermione? There's nothing I can do."

"Now _you're_ wrong," Hermione tried to reason out. "Look at Sirius Black. He was brought up in an atmosphere awfully comparable to yours. You're actually relatives. And yet he chose to desert that kind of life and fight for good. But that's beside the point, what I'm saying is that there is hope. You are not beyond redemption. Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. Then you are free."

"You make no sense."

"All I want you to understand is that you have a choice. And freedom is yours to take. Make a choice to take that freedom and do what is right. That mark on your arm is nothing. It isn't who you are. It may not be removed but it can be, if you allow it to be, of mere triviality. Come with me to the Burrow," Hermione pleaded, grabbing Draco's hand, making him stop pacing. "Look at me, Draco. Let's make some sort of compromise here. You need my help and you know it. Don't deny the truth. But when I try to help, you won't accept it. So tell me, what do you want to do?"

"You say that Potter knows all about me?"

"Yes, he was there that night."

"Then we'll go to him. I think… With Dumbledore gone… Potter may have some answers, more than Weasley, at least."

"But I'm expected to go to the Burrow," Hermione said as she sat back down on the bed.

"Then go," Draco said, miffed.

"But I want to go with you."

"Blimey, women and your fickle-mindedness. You can't go to the Burrow and come with me at the same time," Draco complained in exasperation. "Come to a decision."

"I…erm… I suppose I'll go with you. I can owl Mrs. Weasley and tell her I can't come. And my mum and dad don't need to know that. But I guess I have to tell them that my trip has been moved days earlier. We cannot stay here for long."

"Finally," Draco smirked as he plopped himself down on the bed beside Hermione. "Now you're talking."

"Stop smirking."

"Why?"

"Because it's annoying."

"_You're_ annoying."

"Wow, nice comeback."

"Thank you."

"Well," Hermione said, standing up and walked towards the door. She turned around to smirk at him before leaving, and said, "You kissed me."

Draco could only grin. Now _that_ was a nice comeback.

* * *

Hermione crept down the stairs that lead to the basement, trying not to make any noise. That afternoon, when her parents returned from work, she told them that she received a post from Ron asking if it was possible for her to go to the Burrow earlier than previously agreed upon. And her parents had approved. However, there was a slightly tiny glitch. They were to drive her to the nearest train station.

"Draco?" she whispered as she inched her way towards the sleeping Slytherin. She bent down beside him and began to lightly shake him awake.

Draco opened his eyes and blinked a few times. "Couldn't stay away, could you?" he asked as he took Hermione into his arms and pulled her on top of him.

Hermione began hitting his arm. "What do you think you're doing! I came down to bloody talk to you," she whispered loudly.

"Yeah? What about?" he asked, not letting go of Hermione.

"We leave tomorrow for Harry's, right?" Hermione said, accepting the fact that she could not tear herself away from Draco, and propping her elbows on either side of him.

"Uh-huh," Draco said distractedly, pushing Hermione's hair away from her face. "And?"

"Well," Hermione began to say but got sidetracked by Draco hand against her cheek. She swiped at it and pushed herself away from him. "Draco, stop it. I'm trying to talk here."

Draco growled and sat up. "Okay, you want to talk? Then fine, talk."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said softly. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that."

"Yes, you should've. You don't fancy me," Draco said, believing himself to be stating the obvious. "Although, frankly, I don't know why. Seeing how handsome, well-built, intelligent and, don't forget, posh I am."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Rubbish. Anyway, Draco, I was thinking, tomorrow morning, why don't you get a head start and go to the train station –"

"The train station? Why? Can't we just apparate?"

"Well, yes. But my parents will be bringing me to the station," Hermione explained. "I told them one of the Weasley's will be fetching me from King's Cross. So I have to get to the train station. I'll meet you there then we can apparate to Privet Drive together. How's that sound?"

"Fine, I guess," Draco hissed. "Go let me travel alone to the station, lucky for you if You-Know-Who finds me and dispenses all of your troubles with just one go."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I don't care for your insinuations, Malfoy. I'm doing this not to get rid of you but to help you. How daft can you get? Bloody hell. If you don't get it up to now, then you probably never will." She then got up and turned her back on Draco, not after snarling an audible "_tosser_".

"Where are you going?" Draco said, catching Hermione's hand before she got too far. Standing up, he pulled her to his body and encircled his arms around her waist. "Why so temperamental? I was only bloody joking."

Hermione turned her nose up at him. "Well, blimey, I didn't find it funny. And what's going on? What's this?" she asked, waving her hands around, indicating their physical condition. "Why are you all of a sudden hugging me, touching me, kissing me? What are you playing at?"

"Let me throw the question back at you," Draco smiled. "Why are you all of a sudden allowing me to hug you, touch you and kiss you? What, in Merlin's name, are _you_ playing at?"

"Cheeky," Hermione said, glaring at Draco through haughty eyes.

Draco smiled at her and wondered to himself if he was crazy for doing this, for feeling this way and for actually believing that it can work out. He didn't know what the future held for him, but he didn't care. All he knew was if Hermione believed that it could work out… then dammit, he believed it too. He, surprisingly, found comfort in her words, her smile and her concern – and for now, that was all he needed.

"What have you done to me?" he whispered, brushing his fingers against Hermione's cheek. "I…er…think I…I'm beginning to like you…"

"Good," Hermione said, grasping Draco's hand with her own and pressed her lips on his open palm, making her heart flutter. "Because I like you too."

"You do!" Draco asked in genuine surprise.

"Yes. I do."

"But… But why?" he asked, bewildered at the thought that she could actually like him. "I'm mean and inconsiderate and obnoxious and… and… and a Death Eater to boot. Plus, if you haven't realized it by now, I'm a right foul git. I'm not even that attractive. Nothing fanciable here."

"What are going on about?" Hermione asked, pulling away from Draco and holding him by the shoulders at arms length. "Yes, you are mean and inconsiderate and obnoxious, a Death Eater too, and I have realized what a foul git you are. But you're wrong, because you are beautiful. Definitely fanciable. And all those other things you said about yourself… That's nothing compared to everything else you are."

"Why? What am I?"

"Are you always so down on yourself?"

"Hermione," Draco answered. "It's not that I'm down on myself. Fact in point is, I know who I am. And there's nothing to be proud of. I'm not being blindly self-effacing here, I just know that I'm as foul as it can get."

"No, you're not," Hermione said, drawing Draco nearer. "You're a good person. Don't tell me otherwise, because I know you are. Aside from that, you're bright, witty, and I have to admit, you can be quite humorous at times."

"That's not saying a lot."

"Well, I don't know you that well yet. In due time, I will tell you other brilliant things that I'm certain you are," Hermione said as she entwined her arms around his neck. "Just give it time."

"Well," Draco said, pulling her nearer to him. "I don't need the time to tell you how brilliant you are. I've known you for six years. And I didn't need to spend three days in your basement to realize that you are a very intelligent, brave, gentle and sincere witch. You found me behind that bush, on the brink of death… And even though we don't actually get along… Blimey, worse than that, we loathed each other, and notwithstanding all the animosity, you took care of me. That's saying so much of your character, Hermione. You're a remarkable young woman. Not to mention that you've grown to be such a beautiful person over the years, both inside and out. I have to admit that you weren't the beauty then that you are now. But I think you're splendor intensified because of the goodness that emanates from within.

"So please remember that no matter how much I annoy you now, or inevitably will in the days to come… I doubt that it will ever stop…" Draco smirked. "Remember that I will always be grateful to you. I owe you so much. I owe you my life, my sense of hope and so much more. You have to understand, Hermione, it'll be hard for me to accept all the stuff you said about choices and freedom. But I will try. You see I've never had anyone care so much about me, to the extent of pounding such foreign principles into my head. I've never believed in choices, or at least the choices in dealing with the big things in life. Sure, I can choose which broom to have father buy me, or what food to eat or what funny name to call Weasley… But when it concerns life at its truest meaning, my future and all that… it's always been up to my father to decide. So there was never real freedom for me.

"I might stiffen up and try to back down," Draco continued, sitting them both upon the sheets. "Fear has always gotten the best of me… so I can just imagine myself down this road… Scared and angry and there is a huge possibility that I may lash out at you. But please do not ever think that it's personal. I… I er… have a problem with emotions getting the best of me. I may be hard on myself and maybe on you even more. Don't hurt me by hating me. But don't allow me to hurt you either. Punish me, if you must. But do not let me go. It may be foolish of me to be saying all this, all too soon. But as far as I can tell, as early as we are in this so-called friendship… you may very well be the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Draco continued to sit beside Hermione, not daring to look her in the eye, scared of what they may reveal. He didn't know how she would react to his sudden outpour of emotions and confessions. But he was glad, in some way, that he told her everything in the best way he could of what he was thinking of and feeling.

Hermione stared at the fragile boy who sat in front of her. She was surprised by his honesty and blunt thoughts. And most of all, she was taken aback by the fact that he had been keeping so much to himself for so long. She truly doubted he shared any of these sentiments with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy. And in his eyes, of what used to be stony and vacant, held so much emotions she could not even fathom they contain. It must have been so hard for him to conceal such heartfelt impressions and no one there to confide in.

"Oh, Draco," she murmured, reaching for both of his hands with her own. "Thank you. For trusting me with all this. You don't know how much it means to me. And don't worry. I won't give up on you. Not even when there seems to be no hope. Okay?"

Draco nodded.

"I won't lie and tell you I understand how you must be feeling," she said. "Because I don't. I never had a reason to doubt myself. Never had grounds not to believe I can be whatever and whoever I want to be. So I can't promise either that I'll be one hundred percent understanding of you in the coming days. Because I can't. But I can promise, and I will promise, to be there for you. I'll try to understand what you're going through and do everything I can to help you. We'll be okay. More so, you'll be all right. I think."

"Thanks," Draco whispered, still not looking Hermione in the eyes. He contented himself by staring at her fingers intertwined with his own. "It's almost daybreak. You best be going back to your room. I'll see you tomorrow when you get to the train station. Right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, getting up and letting go of Draco's hands. "I guess you're right. I'll see you tomorrow, Draco."

But before she turned to leave, she knelt in front of Draco and grabbed his face with her hands and planted a kiss right smack on his mouth. The stunned blonde was taken by surprise that when Hermione deepened the kiss he merely sat there agape, allowing her tongue to seek access into his mouth and she kissed him with so much force and passion. But before he could respond to her fervor, she had retreated and was walking back up the stairs.

* * *

**Hope you liked this chapter. If not…well, I'll try to make the next one loads better. Thanks for reading and kindly leave a review. That would mean the world to me. Thank you so much to all who have been reviewing and have been waiting for each chapter. Thanks. TTFN! ¤Ü¤**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Hermione heaved her huge knapsack up over her shoulders and slowly trudged down the flight of steps. It was the next morning and her parents were already waiting for her in the car. After talking to Draco last night, she was more bothered than ever. She couldn't believe everything that had just transpired between the two of them. She didn't understand it and it seemed like the most illogical thing she could do. It was crazy and irrational. But the slow friendship that they had built somehow seemed right. After the past few days, she had learned to take Draco's mockery and sarcastic comments in good stride. She has also learned more about the boy and felt a bizarre connection with him. Upon which this connection was based, Hermione had a strong hunch what it was.

Hermione knew that for days before she found Draco she was relentlessly uneasy. She knew she was looking for something to do, something to make her feel in control again. And sadly, she had inkling that Draco gave her just that. Did this mean she was using him for her own good? Did this mean she was just seeing him a project of sorts to work on and to control? She had no idea. Yet she fought back these thoughts because they seemed so superficial of her. Couldn't she be helping him out of the goodness of her own heart without any selfish motives? If she had found Draco a summer ago in the same distressing condition, would she have helped him? Hermione forced herself to believe the encouraging possibility. That she was doing this, helping Draco Malfoy, because she was genuinely concerned.

And what about him? Why was he, from nowhere, acting as though he needed her help? From time immemorial, or for the past six years she's known him at least, he has never needed, and admitted to needing, any help. And the Draco she knew would've killed his own father before voluntarily acknowledging the fact that he had to seek help from anyone, especially from someone like her. So why was he being so nice? That is of course, using the term 'nice' very loosely. Nevertheless, he was acting very peculiar. And Hermione wasn't sure what to make of it.

But presently, she pushed these thoughts aside and climbed into the backseat of the car. She had more things to do and all the thinking can be done at a later time.

"Ready, dear?" her mum asked from the passenger seat.

Hermione nodded.

"Well then," her father spoke. "Off we go."

"Hermione, dear," her mum said, looking over her shoulders. "Your trunk and everything else, including Crookshanks, will be brought a week before class starts to the Weasley's. I'll take care of it. Alright?"

"Thanks mum," Hermione said absentmindedly, still not being able to push away the image of Draco kissing her away from her thoughts. It was a completely odd incident and she wasn't sure what it meant.

It wasn't a long while later that the car pulled up to the train station. Hermione hopped off and kissed her mum and dad goodbye, wishing them well and truthfully speaking of how she'll miss them. But she promised to write as often as she could as she has been doing the past few years.

She stood just before the huge entryway and waved to her parents as they sped off in the car. A tear rolled down her cheek. This was the first time she ever lied to her parents face to face. And it had been hard. But somehow she knew it was the right thing to do.

"Hermione," she heard someone say, rather loudly, from behind her. She brushed away the tears and turned to face Malfoy.

Draco was walking towards her, a grimace on his pointed face. The look faded as he cocked his head to one side and studied Hermione. "You've been crying."

When Hermione didn't answer, Draco took her bag from arms and slung it over his shoulder and led her towards an isolated area just outside the high walls of the station. "Okay, I won't pry whatever's bothering you out of you. I understand if you don't want to tell me. But please tell me we're still going to Potter's."

Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"Are you still up for the trip? Or have you changed your mind?"

"We'll go."

Draco breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you began having second thoughts about this. You know, just the mere fact that Saint Granger had to lie to her mum and dad to help the big bad Malfoy… I thought you'd back out."

This bit surprised Hermione. Malfoy had no idea how close to home his remark had hit and they brought hot tears to Hermione's eyes that quickly overflowed and poured down her cheeks.

Draco stared at the girl in shock, his eyes wide. He immediately reached out and wiped her tears away. He looked in all directions to make sure no one was watching them. It would have been easily misinterpreted and people might think he was making her cry. And he wasn't, at least he didn't think so. Unfortunately an old couple that were walking along the pavement towards the station were looking at him with haughty glares. "Mind your own business," he snarled.

He heard them mutter something that sounded like "disrespectful boy" and "imagine, making the poor girl cry like that" as the old couple continued throwing dagger looks at him. He wanted to scream at them for calling him disrespectful, when they, on the other hand, were snooping on matters that didn't involve them. And he wanted to chuck the bag in their direction for thinking he was to blame for Hermione's tears. He would never intentionally make this girl cry… Draco shook his head. "Well, not anymore, at least."

"What?" Hermione asked, pulling away from Draco.

"Huh?"

"You said something," Hermione said, sniffling. "What's not anymore?"

Draco furrowed his brows. Did he just say that aloud? He shook his head. "Nothing," he whispered.

Hermione took a deep breath and mentally shook herself. "Well, we better get going."

"So you're not going to tell me what that was all about?"

Hermione pretended not to hear him and began walking towards the empty clearing just behind the station.

Draco shrugged and quickly followed suit.

* * *

They appeared, a moment later, on an empty street's end. The road was lined up, on both sides, with almost identical houses, all with neatly planted bushes and freshly mowed lawns and a car or two parked right out front. The sky was bright blue, and the wind softly blew by, sending the scent of homemade apple pie across the neighbourhood. 

"So this is where Potter lives, eh?" Draco said, turning to find Hermione at his side. "Where are we?"

"Privet Drive in Surrey," Hermione said, taking a look around. She found the rusted street sign that visibly read _Privet Drive._ "I know where he lives but I've never been here before."

Draco nodded. "So where is it?"

"It must be down the road," Hermione answered. She started walking, glancing at each of the numbered houses. "Keep a lookout for number 4."

"Oh," Draco muttered. "Well, that's a long way down, seeing as this house," he nudged his thumb towards a bright white house on their left, "is number 21."

Hermione sighed. "Then get a move on, will you?"

"What has gotten into you?" Draco asked rashly, lurching forward to keep up with Hermione who was walking briskly. "You're not yourself."

"And you would know that, wouldn't you?" she answered sarcastically. "Since you know me so well."

"Why are you being sarcastic?"

"I'm not," Hermione nearly spitted out.

"Oh, and for a minute there, I thought you were being a total bitch," Draco spitted back. "But you're not that either, now are you?"

Hermione, once again, pretended not to notice and continued walking, making sure to check the number on the houses. They were now by _Number 15, Privet Drive_.

Draco sighed. "Hey," he said. "Talk to me, will you? What's bothering you?"

Hermione mentally slapped herself. What was getting into her? Draco wasn't being anything but nice to her so far. But she was, in Draco's words, being a total bitch. It wasn't his fault that she lied to her parents, not to mention to Ron and Mrs. Weasley as well. It was her own choice, out of her own volition, because she wanted to accompany Draco. He never forced her to go with him. Yes, he wanted her to and needed her to, but she wasn't forced.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I reckon."

Draco knew there was more to her answer than what she was allowing herself to reveal but he didn't press on further. He simply nodded and checked the house to their right, _Number 10, Privet Drive._

* * *

"We have ourselves a dilemma," Hermione said, once they had found _Number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey. _

"And that would be?"

"Harry's relatives, you see, hate magic. And they give him a hard time for it," Hermione explained, looking up at the house. "I reckon that they won't be particularly happy if we ring the bell and present ourselves as his classmates at Hogwarts."

"Then we don't tell the bloody muggles that we're from Hogwarts."

"It's not that simple. They'd be suspicious. Harry, I suppose, doesn't know anyone who isn't from Hogwarts," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Which room is his?" Draco asked, he himself looking up at the house. "Maybe we could throw stones at his windows, you know… Or something."

"But I don't know which is his –"

"POTTER!" Someone from inside the house bellowed. "If that ruddy owl starts hooting one more time! You're going to get it this time, I swear!"

Hermione and Draco turned to look at one another then back up to the house. Then behind one of the windowpanes on the second storey they saw a thin boy with dishevelled black hair and a pair of glasses propped on his nose. He was standing by the window and looked as though he was talking to someone.

"Brilliant," Draco murmured and slowly approached the house. He picked up a small stone from the garden and chucked it towards the second window from the left.

When Harry's head didn't reappear, Hermione bent down and picked up a bigger stone from the earth and lobbed it up.

Then the window opened and Harry stuck his head out and looked down onto the street. His eyes widened as he saw Hermione standing in the Dursley's yard. And if were even possible, they got wider when he noticed who was situated right beside Hermione. Draco Malfoy.

* * *

**Thank you for reading this chapter. I hope it didn't disappoint you all. Since I've been very busy with work, it's taken me awhile to write this. Although this isn't one of the most exciting chapters, it's an integral one before I wander on to write the next chapters. So I hope you all can be a tad bit patient for the next ones. And with me, as well. **

**On the other side of the news, I'm celebrating my birthday tomorrow (February 12). And since I love my readers so much, I promised myself to put up the this chapter before I turn 22 years old. Moreover... ♫_Happy Birthday to me... Happy birthday to me..._♫ **

**Now, as a birthday present to me, kindly leave a review. I will totally appreciate it. Thanks. Tata!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Harry Potter couldn't wait to get out of the Dursley's house. He had it all planned. But he couldn't leave just yet. No matter how much he ached to go away he had matters to deal with first. One was he didn't know where to start with finding Voldemort's Horcruxes. Second, Dumbledore had advised him to stay with the Dursleys before he went on to trudge towards Godric's Hollow. But Uncle Vernon was being the typical huge arse that he was. This was no big news for Harry, he was used to his Uncle's empty threats and his breathing down Harry's back. In fact, he would have been much more frightened if Vernon Dursley left him alone. And today was no different from the past years he has known and lived with the Dursleys.

It was quite one thing for Harry to accidentally inflate Aunt Marge (Vernon's sister) a couple of summers ago and another thing for him to have accidentally on purpose destroyed his cousin Dudley's new mobile phone. He didn't mean to have stepped on it when he was climbing down the stairs for breakfast, seeing as how it was lying on the floor by the base of the staircase. But since his foot already happened to be situated upon the electronic phone, he dug his shoe deeper into the broken thing. And of course Uncle Vernon will hear none of his excuses for being a "dumb witted weirdo". So for the past few days, Harry had a slice of lemon for breakfast alongside a moldy piece of bread. This didn't bother him as much as the screaming was, though. Harry would have loved if he could place a soundproofing spell on his room to prevent the blares of screaming from reaching his now damaged eardrums. Uncle Vernon has been non-stop with reprimanding Harry for every little thing he could find to put blame on the young man. And today was all about Hedwig, Harry's pet owl.

"This 'ruddy owl' would stop its hooting if only that sizeable porker disguised as a man would let me take her out once in awhile," Harry mumbled to himself as he stood up and walked over to Hedwig's cage which was perched just by his window sill. "Sorry Hedwig, you know Uncle Vernon. By now you understand that I cannot let you out."

But Hedwig nipped at Harry's stretched finger that was wedged between the bars of the cage intended to pet the white bird's beak. Harry merely sighed. "I'm sorry Hedwig."

Harry walked towards his bed but before he could sit down he heard a soft tap on his window. He turned to look but didn't see anything. He was half expecting to see his beast friend, Ron Weasley, outside his window like he did the summer before second year when Ron and his brothers, George and Fred, came for him in their Dad's enchanted Ford Anglia.

Then he heard it once more, louder this time. He stood up and walked slowly towards the window. Something weird was going on. Were those stones being thrown? Impossible. He pushed the window open and stuck his head out to take a look. He peered through his glasses and straight down onto the street where a curly brown-haired girl with a huge smile stood just a few feet away from the Dursley's garden. Hermione!

Harry did a double take as he recognized that pointed-faced boy who stood next to Hermione. There was no way on earth they could be standing alongside each other on the front lawn. Was there? He couldn't believe it. But it was right there staring at him in the face. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. No matter how hard Harry blinked his eyes the vision didn't change.

He knew he wasn't any good at it but he tried his best. _What could go wrong? _ He thought to himself, it would be just a few feet away. He spun quickly in place trying his best to remember the three Ds.

* * *

Harry suddenly appeared next to Hermione a few seconds later. "What's going on here? What's this?" He pointed his finger and wagged it back and forth between Hermione and Draco.

Hermione looked hesitantly towards Draco. "I uh…" If only Harry knew how much has happened between them. "Harry we need your help."

"But can you explain this to me first?"

"We need a place to talk," Draco said. "We cannot continue with this in the middle of the road. Let's go somewhere else."

Harry stared coldly at Draco. But all he could do was nod. "Let's head for the square."

The three of them walked in silence towards the other end of Privet Drive and as soon as they reached the cobbled stone path that lead to the middle of the square Harry pointed towards an empty wooden bench. Harry waited for the two to take a seat before positioning himself on the other side of Hermione.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Harry, I'm not sure if you'd understand me or if you'd approve of it or not. But I'm not here for your approval anyway. What I need is your understanding and your assistance," Hermione started, taking a deep breath and smoothly plunged into the long story.

Hermione kept silent as soon as she finished with their story and awaited Harry's reaction. She couldn't even dare look at him.

"You helped him?" Harry asked, picking up a piece of lint from his sweater and rolled it between his fingers, anything to keep his gaze away from the two.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"And you let him stay in your home?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes."

"So you two?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes averted.

"Yes," Draco answered.

"And Death Eaters are after you?" Harry asked, finally looking up and staring Draco straight on.

"Unfortunately," Draco replied, meeting Harry's intent look.

"I know you didn't kill Dumbledore," Harry said.

"I know."

"And I remember what Dumbledore told you that night up in the tower," Harry said. "Do you?"

"Hardly. I was a mess that night. All I could think about was how I was going to be killed by the Dark Lord."

"I'm surprised he hasn't found you by now."

"Back to the point, Potter."

Harry glared at Draco. But continued anyway. "Dumbledore said he could hide you in such a way that the Death Eaters would think you were dead. You and your mother. And even your father, once he's freed from Azkaban. The Death Eaters would assume that the Order finished you off. That they'd think that way because that's what they would do.

"Problem is, I don't know how I could be of any help. I have no idea what he was talking about. How he planned to do that and who could do it. Him, I suppose. But now that he's…"

"Gone…" Draco continued. "We don't know how to go about it."

"I'm sure there's someone who knew what he was talking about," Hermione, who up to this point stayed voiceless, suddenly spoke up.

Harry and Draco turned to look at Hermione and waited for her to carry on.

"The Order, of course."

* * *

"Ronald Weasley," said Molly Weasley, wagging her index finger in the air at her youngest son. "Stop sticking your dirty fingers into our dinner! If you had woken up in time you would have gotten a big lunch. So don't go yapping about how hungry you are. The next time I call for lunch you will come down in time for it. And if you don't, no early supper for you, you hear?"

Fred and George, Ron's older twin brother, were shaking so much from laughter as Ron scowled and turned to march up the stairs and into his room, not forgetting to smack Fred's arm on his way up.

"No early supper for you, you hear!" Fred mimicked as he called after his younger brother.

"And you two," Molly Weasley said turning towards her twin boys. "Things around here aren't really peachy keen, as you might have noticed. So please try to make things easier for everyone. Stop with all you silly nonsense."

"We are helpful you know," Gearge said as he and his twin bounded towards the front door. "We're creating a livable carefree atmosphere. By mum!"

Mrs Weasley sighed as she turned back to her cooking. "But things aren't as carefree as they used to be."

"They will be soon," said Ginny, Molly's youngest and only daughter, as she traipsed across the room and embraced her mother from behind.

* * *

"I can't go with you two," Harry said.

"Why not?" asked Draco, stopping in the middle of the street to turn to face Harry. The three were headed back to the Dursleys.

Hermione sighed. "Is this because of Ginny? Harry, don't worry about it. Ginny understood why all of this had to happen."

"Not Ginny," Harry said. "It's me. I don't wanna see her. I can't see her."

"But you have to come with us," Hermione pleaded.

"I…"

"Harry, this isn't about you, this isn't about Ginny," Hermione said. "This is about helping Draco. You're coming with us is your decision. But with or without you we'll be going our way. But I really hope you could come with us. And besides, we won't be staying long at the Burrow. Only long enough for us to find out what's going on and where Professor McGonagall is. I reckon she could help us."

"You're right," Harry said reluctantly. "I'll go with you. Wait for me on the swing set in the middle of the small clearing left of the park. I'll pack my stuff and meet you there in half an hour. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," Hermione said with a smile. "Thanks Harry." Then she and Draco were off towards the western area of the park.

* * *

"How do we get to the Burrow?" asked Hermione as soon as she saw Harry headed towards them. "We could apparate. But it's kinda far, isn't it?"

"It's a bit far," answered Harry. "There's another way, I suppose. But I'm not sure if it's up and running still what with all that's been happening in the wizarding world."

"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"The Knight Bus," Harry said as he looked down towards the road. "It's not as comfortable as apparating but at least I wouldn't risk splicing myself in half riding it."

"We could floo," offered Draco as he frowned at the thought of taking the heavily enchanted, violently purple, triple-decker bus.

Hermione sighed. "We could but only if the fireplace is connected to the floo network. And obviously the Dursley's grate isn't."

"But Mrs Figg's is," said Harry brightly. "C'mon, let's head back to Privet Drive, let's see if Mrs. Figg is home."

* * *

**Sorry it took me such a long time to update. Been really busy with work and stuff. So I hope this semi-compensates for the delay. It isn't as long as I hoped it would be. But I do promise to update soon. So sorry. TTFN!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The three ran towards the austere home of Arabella Figg, situated just right beside that of the Dursley's. Harry rapped on the oak door and paused, but no one came to answer. He turned to look at Hermione and Draco but the two just shrugged. Harry turned to knock once more when the heavy door swung open.

"Mrs Figg!" Harry said.

"Oh Harry dear," Mrs Figg said in surprise. "What seems to be the matter?"

"Your grate," Harry said in a hurry. "We need to use your grate. It's connected to the network right?"

"Yes dear," the lady answered. "Although I'm afraid I only have enough floo powder for one. And it looks like you've got company," she said peering over Harry's shoulders.

"Oh bugger," Harry whispered dismally.

"One of you can use it," Mrs Figg offered heartily. "But the other two will have to find another way to get wherever it is you seem in a hurry to go to."

Harry turned to look at Hermione, "You go on Hermione," Harry said. "You go ahead to the Burrow. Malfoy and I will have to find another way."

"Why do I have to be stuck with you, Potter?" Draco asked surly. No matter how much he liked Hermione he couldn't hide the fact that the mere sight of the "Boy-Who-Lived" irked him like nothing else.

"Do you see any other alternative Malfoy?" Harry answered back heatedly. "Tell me, because I sure as hell do not want to be stuck with you either."

"What?" Harry asked brusquely when Draco did not answer.

"Harry..." Hermione muttered. "Stop."

Harry just sighed and turned to face Mrs Figg who was watching them with an amused smile all the while. "Hermione will use your grate Mrs Figg. We'll pay you for using up your floo powder as soon as we can."

"Oh! No need for that Harry," Mrs Figg said with a warm smile and ushered Hermione into her house. "Silly boy."

* * *

"What are you up to?" Harry asked as he and Draco walked towards the pavement. "What's going on between you and Hermione?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you the truth," Draco answered honestly.

"Try me," Harry answered as he stuck out his wand arm in hopes that the Knight Bus would find them.

A second later a huge purple bus that resembled a giant candy bar suddenly stopped in front of them. The door opened and a portly man in a top hat and a ghastly purple uniform stepped out. "My name is Will Wheelies and I will be your conductor. Ya need a ride?"

Harry quickly stepped onto the triple-decker vehicle and found an armchair to sit on. Draco silently followed behind him and plopped on the seat next to Harry's.

"Where to then, chaps?" Will Wheelies asked as he stood in front of the two boys.

"The Burrow," Harry said hurriedly, not forgetting his conversation with Draco. "In Devon."

"That would be 15 sickles," Will said. "But fer thirteen ya each get a chocolate bar."

Harry hastily handed over some gold to the conductor, "No chocolate for us."

"Well then, lads," Will said as he turned his back on the boys. "We'll be on our way. Brace yerselves."

Harry then looked expectantly at Draco, waiting for an answer.

Draco let out a heavy sigh. "I know you won't believe me, and I don't blame you. It's hard to understand all of it. I don't even understand half of it myself. But I have to, because this is all the truth that I have."

Then the bus lurched forward, throwing the boys hard against the backrest of the armchairs.

"And the truth would be what?" Harry asked impatiently as he gripped on the armrest of his chair. "Out with it, Malfoy. Stop with the dilly-dallying."

They suddenly took a sudden left, hurling Harry and Draco across the room despite the firm grasp they had on their seats. Draco found himself face to glass with the bus' window. He pushed himself off the pane and steadied himself.

Harry got to his feet and grabbed onto a silver pole. He disregarded the idea of getting back into the armchair for it didn't matter how hard he clung to the seat, it somehow just kept throwing him off.

Draco held onto the same silver pole and stared at Harry straight on. "I trust Hermione," he said. "I have no idea why, but she does seem like someone you could trust. I like her. I feel comforted by her. It's crazy, I know, but somehow I know that she's real."

Harry tried to decipher what Draco was saying but he didn't know what to make of it. It seemed to Harry, and he had an eerie feeling about it, that Draco was telling the truth.

Draco continued as he gripped onto the pole even harder. "She's concerned about me and she's not afraid to show how she feels. I never knew it could be like that. That… that's why… with her, I feel good. You know? And I do… weird as it may sound, even to my own two ears, care about her. I do. Maybe I trusted too early, I don't know. But I do."

"It's not wrong to trust her," Harry said. "She always has her heart in the right place. It's your heart I'm worried about. It's you I don't trust."

"I don't blame you," Draco said.

They suddenly reeled forward as the bus stopped in the middle of a vast pasture. Will Wheelies stood up from his seat beside the driver, Ernie Prang. "The Burrow, Otter St Catchpole, Devon, United Kingdom," he announced.

Harry stumbled towards his belongings and marched towards the doors, mumbling an offhand thank you to Will and got off the Knight Bus. He began trudging across the field and towards the Burrow.

Draco hurried towards Harry's retreating back. "Wait up," he yelled as he slung his bag over his shoulders and scampered after Harry as the Knight Bus rocketed into oblivion.

* * *

As soon as Harry entered the Burrow a huge shriek pierced the air. "Harry, dear," Molly Weasley shrieked, getting off a dining chair. She ran towards Harry and locked him in a tight embrace. "I was so worried, Hermione here told me all about what happened."

Harry then spotted Hermione, Ron Weasley and Arthur Weasley seated around the dining table in the Weasley's small dining room.

"I see," Harry said as Mrs Weasley let go of the young man. "No need to worry about me."

"Harry, mate," Ron said from where he was perched. "It's good to see you, can't say the same thing for you, Malfoy."

It was then that Harry even remembered that Draco was just right behind him. Harry walked towards the table and dropped his huge bag on the floor. "Mr Weasley," Harry nodded at Ron's father.

"Hello Harry," Arthur Weasley answered back with a nod. "We'll figure this out. Don't you kids worry about it. Malfoy, come in and have a seat."

Draco was still standing by the open door and looked very uncomfortable in the situation.

"Come on, dear, we don't bite," Molly said with a smile. Draco simply nodded and sat on one of the dining chairs, setting his stuff quietly onto the ground.

A noise came from the stairs as Ginny marched down, her hands on her hips. "Mummy, have you seen my jumper?"

Harry stared down at his hands. Hermione and Ron looked just as uncomfortable. Draco just sat there, confused about the sudden silence.

Ginny only then noticed Harry sitting by the dining table. "I uh… Hi there, Harry. Didn't know you were here," she said quietly. The she walked over to Hermione and gave her a huge hug. "'Mione! How are you doing?"

Hermione took Ginny's hand and stood up. "I'll tell you all about it outside," she said as the two girls walked towards the backyard.

Draco turned to look at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "What was with that?"

"Shut up," Harry said as he grabbed his stuff and headed for the stairs. "Mrs Weasley, if you don't mind I'll just bring my things upstairs."

"I'll go with you," Ron said as he stood up and followed Harry towards the staircase.

"Boys, bring Draco along with you," Molly said. "And please be back in a 30 minutes, we need to talk. Meanwhile, I have a letter to write."

Ron and Harry exchanged looks and hesitantly motioned to Draco to follow them upstairs…


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Draco silently followed Harry and Ron up the flight of stairs, not knowing what to do. Somehow he knew that now was not the right time to feel oh so righteous about being in this shabby little rundown house and in the presence of blood traitors. And besides, what was Draco himself now but a blood traitor. He just wasn't used to being silent around the two Gryffindors.

They finally reached a wooden door that Ron opened and motioned to the two other boys to go in. Draco peeped through and saw the undersized but surprisingly comfortable room.

"So this is your room, Weasley," Draco commented as he stepped in.

Ron simply stared at Draco with an eyebrow raised. "Good for you to catch on, Malfoy."

Draco smirked. "It's…. diminutive."

"Then do us all a favor and get out," Ron answered as he plopped down on his bed. "If you don't like it here."

Harry sighed. "Ron, stop. He can't and won't leave. Malfoy," he said as he turned to look at Draco. "Set your stuff down and take a seat."

"Why should I listen to you?" asked Draco condescendingly.

"Because I'm here to help," Harry started then added, "And I believe you."

Draco studied Harry for a while. He then nodded and took a seat in one of the badly maintained stool.

"I reckon you heard the story from Hermione," Harry said as he turned to look at Ron.

"Yes," Ron answered. "But I still don't trust him."

"I know what you mean. I have a problem trusting him, too. But he is seemingly telling the truth," Harry concurred. "And we know Hermione believes him."

"He could have brainwashed her or something," Ron said, deep in thought.

"Doubtful," Harry answered.

"It's not entirely impossible," Ron replied. "This is Malfoy we're talking about –"

"And he'd totally appreciate it if you didn't speak as though he were not in the room," Draco interjected. "I did not brainwash Hermione. And if you guys don't trust me, that's fine. I'm not here for your trust anyway. I'm here to stay alive, if you don't mind."

Harry thought about this for moment. "You're right. Who do you think Mrs Weasley's writing to? She said she had a letter to write."

"I don't know," Draco said with a shrug. "McGonagall, perhaps?"

"Could be," Harry said with a thoughtful look upon his face. "Or it could be any one of the members of the Order."

"How do you think they could help me?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure. All I know is that Dumbledore said there was a way to hide you. And maybe they know how."

"I guess all we can do is wait and see," Ron said, finally joining in the conversation. Then after a moment he said, "Malfoy, why didn't you kill Dumbledore?"

"Same reason why I like Hermione," Draco answered.

"You liked Dumbledore?!" Ron exclaimed.

"No you daft prick," Draco answered as he rolled his eyes. "Because maybe I'm not so much a dodgy character as you all think I am. I thought I could do it. I certainly wanted to. But I couldn't. Standing there in front of him… I couldn't. Look where doing the right thing has brought me…"

"Where?" Ron asked.

"To the brink of death," Draco said with a sardonic laugh.

* * *

"So you think you love him?" Ginny asked incredulously after Hermione told her the entire story.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not quite sure what I feel for him. I certainly do like him and have learned to appreciate his presence and understand his stupid, arrogant smirk. But love him? I don't know. Right now, above all emotions… the one that stands out is fear. His situation is scary. I don't know what to do or how I could be of help to him. It frightens me."

"You did as much as you can do," Ginny said wistfully. "You helped him survive the past week. You fed him and cleaned him. You brought him here. That was a lot."

"Not as much I want to do for him," Hermione answered.

"Why?"

"Why, what?" Hermione asked, puzzled by the question. "Because it's the right thing to do.

"Yes, I know that," Ginny answered matter-of-factly. "But I don't think this is just you helping an old lady cross the street or helping Harry and Ron with their schoolwork. I think this runs deeper than you've even realized."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't even want to think about that. First he has to survive the Death Eaters. What's the use of falling in love with someone who's about to die?"

"So you _are_ falling in love with him."

"No!" Hermione said, taken aback. "It was a hypothetical statement."

Ginny just nodded.

* * *

"Hermione, dear," Mrs Weasley said as Hermione and Ginny entered the house. "Kindly go and call the boys. I expect Professor McGonagall to be here any second now."

Hermione nodded her head and started for the stairs just as a loud "poof" revealed Professor McGonagall in the center of the living room.

"Good day Professor," Ginny said as she offered the headmistress a seat.

"Nice of you to come on such short notice, Professor," Mrs Weasley said as she and Arthur Weasley joined them in the living room.

"Of course, Molly," Professor McGonagall answered as she sat down. "Arthur, nice to see that everything's fine with you and your family."

"Thank you, Professor," Mr Weasley said as he stood by their fireplace.

Soon after Hermione came down the stairs, with the three boys at her tail, and joined the others in the living room.

"Draco Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said primly. "Have a seat, my boy." Draco and the others took their places and Professor McGonagall continued. "Molly has informed me of the matters and we're here to decide what to do."

"Told you it was McGonagall," Draco whispered to Harry.

Harry simply nodded.

"So, You-Know-Who is looking for you," McGonagall said matter-of-factly to no one in particular as she stared hard into space. "We need to hide you."

"Professor," Harry said quietly. "If you don't mind, before Professor Dumbledore… er… passed away, he said something about hiding Malfoy and making it seem that he died and er… hiding his mother as well. And when Lucius Malfoy gets out of Azkaban, hiding him, too. I'm just not sure how he planned on that happening…"

"I see," Professor McGonagall said pensively. "Thank you Harry, for that information. I think I know what he was referring to. If you all don't mind, Ginny, Ron… may you please step out of the room momentarily?"

"But…. Why?" Ron asked incredulously.

Ginny sighed and pulled Ron by him arm. "Let's just go, Ronald."

As soon as the two left the room McGonagall continued. "The Fidelius Charm. You've heard of it of course, Arthur and Molly. And I presume Harry may be familiar with it. And so would you, Hermione, you may have read about it. Am I right?"

All four of them nodded.

"Of course…" Hermione said as understanding slowly crept into her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Here's another chapter. Hopefully I get to post another one real soon. Please read and leave a review. Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Draco," Professor McGonagall said. "Do you know of the Fidelius Charm?"

Draco simply shook his head.

"Okay, the Fidelius Charm is an exceptionally complex spell concerning the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul," Professor McGonagall explains. "The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find -- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to make it known. It is the very same charm used on Harry's parents when You-Know-Who was after them."

"I see," Draco said as he nodded thoughtfully. "What about my mother?"

"It seems Narcissa was placed in 'safe-hiding' by Albus late last spring," Professor McGonagall said.

"Are you serious?" Draco asked, looking apalled.

"It seems like it," McGonagall answered. "He mentioned something like it before his demise. However, I can never be so sure. So I've already asked some of our friends to keep their heads up for word on Narcissa. As for your father, we will deal with him once he gets out of Azkaban. How does that sound?"

"Not so bloody good," Draco mumbled.

"And why is that?" McGonagall asked.

"It would seem to me that this might not entirely be fool-proof. For starters…who would be my Secret-Keeper?" Draco said. "And whoever that person may be… Wouldn't You-Know-Who track him down and force the information out of him? And how long must I be hidden? Where would I be hidden and must I be all alone?"

"That's a lot of questions," Professor McGonagall replied. "Let's go at it one by one, shall we?"

When Draco nodded Professor McGonagall resumed. "Who would be your Secret-Keeper?"

"I'll gladly do it, Professor," Hermione blurted out. She turned to look at Draco who returned her sad smile.

"Ms Granger," McGonagall said seriously. "You-Know-Who has his ways and his means and I assure you, you will be at risk. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, biting her lower lip.

"No!" Draco suddenly blurted out as he stood up and stared hard at Hermione. "I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me. You've helped me enough. I don't need you to dangle your neck further into danger as it already is. I… I can't live with that. There has to be somebody else. Someone whom Voldemort will never suspect."

"But Draco, I want to help you. I want to do it," Hermione said angrily. "What's wrong with risking yourself for something you believe in?"

Harry couldn't help but stare at the two.

"I simply will not have you risking your life for me, Hermione," Draco said brashly. "I know you mean well, but if it means getting you killed, then my answer is no."

Hermione could only sit down and fume over the circumstances but she did understand what Draco meant. She, however, could not just sit still and not help. She was sick and tired of just watching things take place. And being cooped up at home for the past weeks didn't help her nerves either.

"Hermione, dear," Molly Weasley said softly. "It's not only Draco who feels that way honey... We surely can't risk it."

"Then who do you suggest be the Secret-Keeper, then?" asked Hermione meekly, finally giving up.

"I was thinking… Harry," Professor McGonagall answered.

"Me, Professor?!" Harry asked, surprised by the sudden twist of events.

"Yes, my dear boy," McGonagall said. "As far as the Dark Lord knows, you and Mr Malfoy here have been at each others throats since time immemorial. So he wouldn't ever suspect that you'd be hiding your worst enemies secret."

"But wouldn't he think that since Draco came to us, he'd figure out that I'd help him?" asked Harry, confused.

"Harry, what you don't understand, and seemingly keep forgetting," McGonagall said with a smile. "Is that the You-Know-Who does not understand forgiveness nor love. He would most likely think that when we spotted Draco alone and in pain, we would have finished him, him being suspect to Dumbledore's demise after all."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Right. Sorry Professor."

"But Harry," Arthur interrupted. "You must also understand this. You have to make sure that you are really up for this and want to do this or else, we may be risking Malfoy. You have to want to keep the secret. If not, then it'll be useless."

"I'm no Pettigrew, Mr Weasley," Harry said gravely. "As I do not wish death upon my friends, neither would I upon my enemies. And by now, I've come to understand that Malfoy is no enemy. Besides, I will not be adding anymore risk to myself since Voldemort has already been after me since day one."

"Thanks Potter," Draco said as he nodded towards Harry.

"Well, that's settled then. Now Draco," Professor McGonagall said turning to look at the pale boy. "You will have to be alone in hiding. And you will be kept hidden until the war is over. That is quite a long period of time. However, good news is, you may have visitors. But not all the time. And most likely, it will only be Harry and I. Since Harry is your Secret-Keeper and I, being the person to cast the spell, we'll be the two people who will know where you're located, unless, Harry chooses to divulge the secret. Aside from us, I'm afraid if word gets out where you are hidden it will be easier for the Dark Lord to discover that you are alive and whose been hiding you. Is that clear?"

Draco gulped. "Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

"It's not fair," Hermione said, a solitary tear sliding down her left cheek.

"I know it isn't," Draco answered as brushed away the tear with the back of his hand. "But life isn't always fair. And you know this is the way things are supposed to be."

The two of them were sitting in the kitchen later that night. Before Professor McGonagall left they were promised not to tell a single soul of the details of the conversation. And in a fortnight's time the Headmistress would return and the charm would be cast.

As soon as the Professor left, the word had already been leaked to Ginny and Ron, despite their promise to keep mum about the plan. For the all knew that it wouldn't go much further than that. And as soon as dinner was over, the rest tidied up and one by one retired to bed. But the two remained.

"That means I won't be able to talk to you for months, or who knows, maybe even years," Hermione complained. "I'm not really one to be so self-centered, especially in a situation like this. But I can't help it."

"Hey, Granger," Malfoy said, taking her chin and forcing her to face him. "It'll be all right. We'll be all right. I know it may take awhile, but at least we know we'll be safe. And after the war, I'll be looking for you, you hear? And you better be waiting for me."

"Oh Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, bringing her arms around his neck. "I'm scared, yet happy for you. I don't know." She buried her head in the crook of his neck and let her tears flow.

Draco hugged her close and felt her shaking against him. "Shhh…. Don't cry Hermione, my Mione," He said as he smoothed down her hair. "Don't cry. I'll be just here. Always." He kissed the top of her head. "Think of me and you'll feel me."

She turned up to look at him. She smiled through her tears.

"Don't cry," he whispered as he bent forward to place a kiss on her forehead. He cupped her face with both his hands and brushed her tears away with his thumbs. "We'll be happy soon." He took her chin with his forefinger and thumb and pulled her closer to him. He pressed his lips softly to hers, tasting sweet tears.

She sighed as she brought her arms around his waist. If losing him for the meantime assured having him for eternity, then she'll gladly give him up. For now. Only for now. And not a heartbeat longer.

* * *

_**So you've read… Now please, please leave a review. Thanks so much.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The day had finally come and Hermione was restless as she began pacing the Weasley's living room. It was barely six o'clock in the morning and here she was, up and about, worried and anxious.

Members of the Order were tasked to transport Harry, Draco and Professor McGonagall to Hogwarts where Draco would be hidden in the Room of Requirements. None of them had arrived yet.

Hermione continued pacing round the living room when she heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Molly Weasley was now awake and was sleepily taking the steps slowly. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't the only one awake in her household. She was taken aback when she saw Hermione. "All right there, Hermione?"

Hermione barely smiled, "All right."

"My dear child, you have got to relax," Mrs Weasley said as she led Hermione into the kitchen. "I'll make a pot of earl grey and lay out something for you to eat, okay?"

"Thanks Mrs Weasley, but I'm really not that hungry," answered Hermione, taking a seat at the table.

"Nonsense dear, have something to munch on," Mrs Weasley said as she prepared breakfast. "Calm those nerves down."

Minutes later food was laid out on the table, Mrs Weasley was already rousing up the other children, and yet Hermione hasn't touched the cup of tea that was set in front of her almost 10 minutes ago.

"Good morning, Hermione," Draco said softly as he came down the stairs, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Hermione turned to look over her shoulders. She smiled faintly and motioned for him to take a seat beside her.

Draco walked over to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. "What time did you get up?"

"I didn't."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, giving Hermione a quizzical look. "Don't tell me you didn't sleep at all…"

"I tried to," Hermione whispered. "But I realized my nerves were all overwrought and there was no point in it. So I gave up trying."

"Hermione," Draco said as he took her chin with his forefinger. "How can I leave, go into hiding, with you treating yourself like this?"

"Sorry," she said after a moment's thought. "I know I'm being selfish. But it's hard, you know?"

"Yes, I know," Draco answered taking her hand in his, "But I also know that one day, things will be right. We will be okay. This war will come to an end. One day soon I'll see you again. And if you would allow it, someday I will ask you out on a proper date."

Hermione turned her head quickly to look at Draco. His eyes were twinkling with mischief and hope. "Oh Draco," Hermione weakly laughed. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do," Draco answered as he tugged on her hand and brought it around his neck. He took her other arm as well and pulled her closer. He bent his head, and after what seemed like eons to Hermione, he took her lips with his own.

* * *

It was a grey and dreary morning, too grey and dreary even for England. The sun could barely peep through the clouds, the cars crawled on the streets, and the swarms of people all dressed in monochromatic themes were rushing about as Hermione sat quietly on a huge rock in the Weasley's backyard staring off to space. She hardly noticed the hustle and bustle of the other Order members who have returned from Hogwarts.

"Hermione?" she heard Harry speak from behind her. "We're back."

Hermione merely nodded. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine, Hermione. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Hermione said, turning to face Harry. She smiled at him and took his hand. "I know."

"We're just worried how you're doing."

"I'm okay."

"Hermione," Harry said softly. "Do you mind me asking you a personal question?"

"Go ahead."

"Do you love him?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "Who would have thought, right? Me, Hermione Granger, muggle-born witch… fall in love with Draco Malfoy. Death Eater."

"Not your typical scenario," Harry said quietly. "But auspiciously true, it seems."

"Am I crazy, Harry?"

"No." Harry said as he took her in huge embrace. "You're not. You're just human."

"It hurts."

"What does?"

"Love," Hermione said with a rueful smile. "I heard someone say to me once before, love is a perky little elf dancing a merry little jig and then, suddenly, he turns on you with a miniature machine gun. I never knew how true that was until now."

"He will be alright. You'll see him soon. But for now," Harry said as he turned to walk back into the house. "There's a war before us. We have to be strong."

* * *

**A/N: **_That's it folks... for now. Sorry for making you wait for soooo long. I was quite busy. But I hope you enjoyed it and I will be posting the last chapter soon. D Cheers! Now please leave a review._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

And the war was desolately bestowed upon them. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were at large and those who had not cared to listen to Harry's warnings were caught by surprise. But the Order of the Phoenix was prepared and met the Death Eaters head on.

The Order was able to obtain the alliance of the giants, much gratitude to the way of Grawp and Hagrid. And Kreacher aside, the house-elves were very much eager to be of help to the Order. But that still left a huge deficit on the good side, for the trolls and the dementors were backing the Dark Lord all the way.

Weeks of murders and uproar across the globe, and not just in the wizarding world, gave way to the ultimate meeting of wands. It wasn't out of the blue, it was not unexpected - every single tear shed, drop of blood spilled, and trickle of sweat was building up to this one great moment when good clashed with evil, where wand met wand at the ultimate battle, the final war.

It happened on the afternoon of the last day of July, just as Harry, Ron and Hermione were about to head towards Godric Hallows. So as it turned out, Harry went alone to search for the remaing Horcruzes. Hermione and Ron were whisked away by Professor McGonagall and Moody and were shooed back in the Burrow where all the "kids" were to wait with Mrs Arabella Figg. But this, of course, was not to happen. As soon as the Order members were out and Mrs Figg got busy in the kitchen, Ron, Hermione and Ginny found the Weasley twins and the rest of Dumbledore's Army members by the Weasley's fireplace. It was a unanimous decision to track down where all the adults were fighting against the Death Eaters.

It was a good thing that Alicia Spinnet brought with her her grandmother's tracking pendant that helped them locate the battle.

"Do we have a map of the country?' she asked the Weasley twins.

"Ron," Fred said to his younger brother. "Grab the map in one of mum's drawers in their room."

"Why me?" Ron complained.

"Why not you?" asked George.

Ron frowned, kept silent and grudgingly climbed the stairs to retrieve the map.

As soon as he returned they spread out the map of Britain on the living room coffee table. Alicia raised the necklace by the golden chain and held it above the map.

"It's not doing anything," Hermione said, as she watched the necklace just dangling from Alicia's fingers.

"I can very well see that," Alicia said as she stared at Hermione haughtily.

"What exactly is it supposed to do?" asked Neville Longbottom, nervously wringing his hands together.

"Well," Alicia said as she began to explain. "Placed above a map it's supposed to move around a bit and land on the spot where what we are looking for is located."

"Maybe we should keep in our minds what we are looking for," suggested Neville. "Really focus on it.."

So they did exactly that. But still the necklace remained dangling from between Alicia's fingers. Not a single movement from it.

"Are you all thinking about the Order?!" asked Fred impatiently.

"Maybe it needs a charm to work," Katie Bell offered.

Alicia turned to the twins, "Do you have a charm book or whatever in here?"

"Ron?" Fred said.

Ron simply sighed and trudged back up the stairs to find all the books he could on charms and spells. When he returned he had an armful of books with him.

Michael Corner groaned. "It'll take us all afternoon to find the specific spell."

The twins distributed the books to the group and they slowly and frustratingly went through page after page of spells and charms. It did indeed take them all afternoon to realize that the Order members were tied down in battle in a small graveyard in Little Hangleton, Central Britain – hundreds of miles north of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"There's no way we'll get there on time," Ginny said exasperatedly. "It's too far and not all of us know how to apparate."

Fred Weasley shook his head. "Apparition, side-along."

"What?" Ron asked.

"Of course! Those of you who can apparate, raise your hand," Hermione said.

More than a dozen hands went up, among them were Lavender Brown, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Lee Jordan, the Weasley Twins, Katie, Angelina, the Patil twins, Alicia, Terry Boot, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Neville, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Ron.

"Okay, so for the younger ones, simply hang on to one of us as we apparate," George Weasley announced as he took a head count of the younger members. There was Colin and Dennis Creevey, Luna Lovegood and Ginny. "Remember everyone, the graveyard behind the church in Little Hangleton, probably in Yorkshire."

"Probably?!" Angelina asked wildly. "Probably?!"

"Okay, not probably," George said. "For sure. I'm sure it's in Yorkshire. Little Hangleton, Yorkshire."

And so that's where they all found themselves seconds later, amidst a blazing war, with spells being cast from all sides.

* * *

Hermione blindly cast spell after spell as she hurried behind Ron and Ginny as they streaked across the graveyard. So this was where everything was to end. What big deal was it for a land filled with dead bodies to be added with a couple dozen more? There were already a number of corpses lying on the ground and Hermione never hesitated to take a look-see. She knew she didn't want to see. She was terrified to find out who had left them behind. She continued running, weary and drained, and it was only a couple of hours after sundown. And it took all of Hermione's energy trying not to think of Draco.

"Not so fast, little Mudblood," Hermione heard a piercing shrill voice shout out loud from behind her as they were just nearing the old Riddle house.

Hermione suddenly looked over her shoulder and saw Bellatrix Lestrange on her trail. She stopped abruptly and raised her wand in front of her with squared shoulders.

"Mighty brave, aren't we?" Bellatrix said with a sinister grin. "And look at what we have here, a couple of blood traitors. My, my, aren't I the lucky one?"

"Quit it with the small talk Bellatrix," Hermione said, her head whirling with abandoned idea after idea of how to get away from this situation alive.

"How dare you talk to me in that manner, you good-for-nothing filthy little Mudblood," Bellatrix shrieked. "_Crucio_!"

But Hermione was fast, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The older witch's wand went flying out of her hand and onto a grassy spot not far from their group. "Think you're so smart, eh? That was a very basic defensive spell," she said as she took a step toward Hermione. "_Accio_ wand!" And her wand went sailing back into her hand.

"_Diffindo_!" Bellatrix screamed, pointing her wand right towards Hermione middle.

"_Protego_!" Hermione screamed a millisecond after hearing the Death Eater's curse.

Hermione felt her skin being torn apart. She looked down and saw blood dripping from the cut Bellatrix's spell made on across her stomach, tearing even her shirt.

Ron hastily ran towards the older witch and screamed, "_Oppugno_!" Which had a roaring griffin come about from nowhere and it was making its way closer to Bellatrix. Ron turned to Hermione. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded.

"_Avada kedavra_!"

Hermione gasped and turned to look at Bellatrix. Lying by the Death Eater's foot was the huge griffin.

"Protego!" Ginny yelled as she held on to Hermione. "Ron!"

Ron turned back to look at Bellatrix . "_Sectumsempra_!"

"Why you little –" Bellatrix's scream was interrupted as she was carried off the ground as an invisible whip lashed at her. Then she fell with a loud 'thump', unconscious.

Ron rushed to Hermione's side. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine Ron, just a little gash."

"It's a good thing you shielded that jinx… that would have cut you in half," Ginny whispered.

"I know," Hermione said quietly.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. And Ms. Weasley," they heard a stern voice say from behind them. It was Minerva McGonagall.

"Professor," Ron gulped.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "We told you to stay at the Burrow. How many of you are here?"

"Ummm… twenty-five or so…" Hermione answered meekly.

"Twenty-five!" Professor McGonagall asked loudly, surprised by the new information. "My god, twenty-five students' life in danger."

"But Professor, if you will, our lives are in danger whether or not we join the battle," Hermione said softly. She looked at the weary Headmistress and couldn't detect emotion behind her steely eyes.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "That is true."

Then noticing Hermione's cut she pulled out her wand and cured the wound. She then turned back to join the fight, with one last look behind her shoulders she said, "Just please be careful out there."

"You too, Professor," Hermione said as she reached for her wand, once again ready to fight.

**

* * *

A/N: _After this, there's one more chapter… And that'll be the last. I hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait for the next one. ) Cheers!_**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It felt like a million days ago when Hermione last drank a full glass of water, or had sat down for a full meal. But, in reality, it had only been a three days since they joined the battle. And every now and then, once too weak to hold post, they'd retreat back to Grimmauld Place or to the Burrow to catch a much-needed nap and grab a couple of bites to eat. But comfort never lasted long. Before they knew it, the next batch of rest-seekers was back and those who had had some sleep and food were off to the battlefield once again.

Hermione saw as soon as she got to the battlefield that pandemonium controlled the grounds surrounding the graveyard. The stampeding centaurs were dispersing the Death Eaters. The house-elves were marching with their heads held high. Hermione could even feel the giants' stamping feet.

Harry showed up that night. Hermione saw him charging towards the fighting crowd as he sought to face Voldemort. Hermione continued blasting charms here and there, while keeping an eye on Harry.

Voldemort was in the heart of the battle, and he was cursing and hexing everyone within his reach. Harry fought his way nearer and the graveyard became more and more crowded as everyone who could walk forced their way to the center.

Hermione saw Harry shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater he could see, and they fell, unknowing of what or who had cursed them. Harry cast more Shield Charms as he proceeded to face his own battle.

"Get away from my children!"

Hermione turned to see Molly Weasley charging towards a Death Eater with long dark hair and a sinister grin on her long and pallid face. Quickly, Ginny and Fred flew from the scene, as Molly secured them with a Shield Charm.

Hermione saw Bellatrix from the corner of her eye, battling one on one with Mrs. Weasley, who had a look of fury beyond rage upon her face.

"What will happen to your little ones when I've taken your life?" mocked Bellatrix, as she danced while Molly's curses missed her by mere centimeters. "Oh the poor children."

Molly screamed, "HOW DARE YOU THREATEN ME!"

And Hermione saw the great bright golden light escape from the tip of Molly's wand, which flew and hit the hard-faced Death Eater directly in the chest, precisely over her heart.

Bellatrix's boastful smile iced over, her eyes bulged. And for the tiniest space of time she knew what had come to pass, and then she collapsed.

Then Voldemort screamed.

Hermione saw McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn fly backward, thrashing through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the death of his last, finest lieutenant blow up with the power of a bomb, Voldemort hoisted his wand and pointed it at Molly Weasley.

"_Protego!_" yelled Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the yard, and Voldemort searched for the source and met Harry eye to eye.

Voldemort and Harry faced each other, and started, simultaneously, to circle each other. They exchanged greetings of loathing and steely-eyed glares.

Hermione's heart pounded against her rib cage as she watched the two sworn enemies finally face the other. She trembled in fear, and clutched at her wand tightly. No one said a word. They were all listening to the conversation between the Dark Lord and Harry. But Hermione couldn't pay attention. She felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up and saw Ron's worried face.

Hermione sighed. At this point, there was nothing she could do anymore. This was how it was supposed to be. This was fate. This was the prophecy materializing before their very eyes.

_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,  
but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ...  
And either must die at the hand of the other  
for neither can live while the other survives ..._

And so it happened. Just as Hermione's thoughts tempted to visualize Draco, she heard two loud cries that made Hermione's mind snap back to the present.

A red-glow burst across the sky over them as an edging sun appeared on the horizon. The daylight hit both of their faces concurrently, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a blazing shadow. Hermione heard the high voice shriek as Harry too bellowed his greatest hope to the heavens, pointing his wand:

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The bang felt like an earthquake, and the golden light that erupted between Harry and Voldemort, at the heart of the circle they had been striding, manifest the point where the spells smashed together.

Hermione saw Voldemort's green flame meet Harry's spell, saw Voldemort's wand fly high, rotating across the sky, over their heads and spinning through the air towards Harry. And Harry, with the unmistaken skill of a Seeker, seized the wand in his open hand as Voldemort fell to the ground, the pupils of the scarlet eyes undulating upward. He hit the soil with dull finality, his shriveled up hands empty, and his snake-like features vacant and unknowing.

Voldemort was dead, Hermione realized, killed by his own curse, which had bounced back when it collided with Harry's. She looked at Harry, who stood with two wands in his hand, looking down at his enemy's lifeless form.

Then everything was a blur.

* * *

Hermione rushed through the double oak front doors of the castle and climbed up the stairs from Hogwarts' Entrance Hall up to the first floor. Harry had just written down Draco's location for her and she was ecstatic to see him.

She gripped the piece of paper that held the password to enter the location which kept Draco hidden. On the small piece of parchment, in Harry's small scribbled handwriting, were the words "_servo vita"_, the password to Draco's hiding place.

Hermione ignored the pestering pain in her legs as she sprinted up the nth staircase up to the 7th floor tower which held the headmaster's office and residence. Once she reached the entrance to the office, she faced the statue of the gargoyle and gave the proper password. "Servo vita," she mumbled hurriedly.

The gargoyle leapt aside, and the wall behind it split in to two and revealed a spiral stone staircase. Hermione rode the stone stairs up to Dumbledore's old office and was beside herself with mixed emotions.

She was excited, she was relieved, she was happy. But something in the back of her mind kept nagging at her. What if after all this time, Draco forgot all about her? What if he suddenly came to his senses and didn't want to be with a mudblood after all? What if the only reason he cared for her during the summer was because he was alone and defenseless and needed someone to care for? A dozen thoughts ran through her mind, but none of them could make the stairs go any faster.

As soon as she saw the polished oak door, she grabbed the brass knocker and repeatedly rapped it against the door. But no one came to answer. Anxiously, Hermione turned the brass doorknobs and opened the doors slowly, gradually revealing the circular room within.

"Draco?" she whispered.

She crept into the room at a snail's pace and looked around her. The room had not changed much since she'd last seen it.

The walls of the office were filled with portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. The wall directly behind the Headmaster's desk had a shelf holding the Sorting Hat. Right beside the Sorting Hat was Gryffindor's Sword. Hermione noted that Dumbledore's silver inkpot still sat upon the huge claw-footed desk.

"Ms. Granger," she heard a soft male voice say. "It's been a long time."

* * *

**A/N: **_This chapter was turning out to be longer than I expected. So I cut it into two. Wait for the next one… That will be the final chapter. I promise. )_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Two Faces and Eight Limbs**

Hermione whipped around to see who had followed her into the Headmaster's office. But no one was there. She was, indeed, alone in the room.

"I'm right here, Ms. Granger," the voice, Hermione recognized but couldn't place, said.

Hermione turned once more to find herself staring straight into the shining blue eyes of none other than the old Headmaster himself.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said with a big smile. She slowly approached the enormous portrait that was perched on the wall, in a space beside the Sorting Hat. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"That's quite alright. I am, obviously, just part of the decoration."

"Sorry Professor."

"I think I know who you're looking for."

"Draco Malfoy, Sir," Hermione said softly.

Dumbledore smiled. "How is everything, Ms. Granger?"

"Everything's is well, Sir," she said enthusiastically. "Harry would love to see you. But he's quite tired at the moment."

"I'm sure he is," Dumbledore said. "He's a very brave young man. And we both know of another brave young man. I never doubted him. Never did."

Hermione simply smiled. "Professor?"

"Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"How are you?"

"I'm quite alright. But there are a few things I miss," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I did enjoy a game of tenpin bowling, you know."

Hermione smiled. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"I was told that Draco was hidden here. Where is he?" she asked slowly.

The headmaster smiled. He nodded towards a door to the east of the room. "Right through there, Ms. Granger."

"Thank you, Professor."

* * *

Hermione opened the door just as slowly as she did the previous one. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, it throbbed so hard it seemed it would burst out of her chest. She missed him. And this was the moment she would see him again.

Once she stepped inside the Headmaster's sleeping quarters she found him asleep on the four-poster bed, his hair dishevelled and his arm slung across his forehead. Hermione felt her tears rushing to her eyes, for what reason, she didn't quite know. She was… overwhelmed, she supposed. Before she knew it, the tears were streaming down her face and surged like the rushing river to the sea.

She quickly brushed her tears aside and walked towards the bed. She took in one deep breath and smiled through her quivering lips. "Draco?"

He stirred slightly.

"Draco?" she whispered once more, still making her way closer. "I'm here. It's me."

Draco's sight was blurry with sleep as he opened his eyes and tried to find the source of the voice. He could see her silhouette, but he strained his eyes more because he wanted to see her beautiful face. "Hermione…"

"Hermione," he whispered as he reached out to touch her face. "How are you?"

Hermione began breathing heavily, her eyes red from the gush of tears, her hair limp on her face, and her arms drooped to her sides. She could see it in his eyes, the answers she craved, and it was there. He did love her after all. She whimpered. "Never been better…" she let her voice trail. She was tired and withdrawn. All that got her going through the last few days were the thoughts of finally being able to see Draco. And now that she had, the weariness overcame her.

Draco grabbed her as she swayed forward. "Hermione," he cried just as she fell into him.

"Draco..." she tried to say as she lay slumped in his arms. "I..."

"Shhh," he whispered as he pressed her closer to him. "Don't try to talk anymore."

"I..." she whispered with her eyes closed. Then she collapsed into him, unconscious.

"Hermione!"

* * *

Time had moved slowly when he was alone. Every now and then, McGonagall or Harry would have dropped in to visit him or to bring him food. But the visits lessened as time passed; this signalled to him that the war was being pursued. And during those increasingly seldom visits he received, the two members of the Order slowly grew thinner and paler.

He sighed. That was over now. By the looks of it, the Dark Lord was overcome.

Draco watched Hermione sleep beside him on the bed with which he was imprisoned for so long. And he couldn't believe he was seeing her at that very moment. It seemed almost surreal.

He was aching to talk to her, but he let her be. She seemed frail and sickly. His heart went out to her.

Hours passed and Draco himself had fallen in and out of sleep. But with one small stir from Hermione he was awake and fully alert.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Better now that I'm with you," she barely whispered.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," he said.

"Liar," she said as she rolled into him. "That's too much of a coincidence. I won't believe it for one moment."

Draco chuckled. "But it's true. I was thinking that same thing, verbatim even." He drew her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you believe in soul mates?"

"Not so much, no. Why?"

Draco smiled. "Do you know Aristophanes?"

"Yes, the Greek philosopher. And?"

"Aristophanes, the Greek philosopher and _wizard_, said that humans used to be round beings, with two faces and eight limbs. But the gods punished them by cutting them in half. So now, the halves run around in hopes of finding their other half that would complete them, and that's what he called love. And maybe, if that were true," Draco explained. "Then maybe I've found my other half in you."

"That's a morbid way to put it," Hermione said as she smiled despite herself. "But I'll accept it anyway."

"I love you," he whispered almost inaudibly. But she heard him and this made her heart beat faster she could swear he felt it.

"Do you really?"

"With all my heart and all my soul," he whispered.

Hermione looked up at him tenderly and squeezed his hand.

"Well?" asked Draco.

"Well what?"

He pouted. "I said I love you."

Hermione merely smiled and sat up. "I know."

"And?" Draco asked. Irritated, he sat up as well and glared at Hermione.

"Malfoy, are you waiting for me to say I love you too?" Hermione asked.

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Well," Hermione said. "I believe that love is easier said than shown. But when it is seen and it is felt, that's when you know it's true. Do you see and feel my love for you Draco?"

Draco nodded with a big smile.

"How arrogant," Hermione said with an amused smile.

Draco sat up straight and tilted her head with his fingers and made her face him. "I know," he said. "And you love me anyway."

"Yes, I do," she whispered as he softly brushed her lips with his. "So much."

He kissed her once, twice. Thrice, until they lost count.

"I want to hear you bloody say it," he said as he laced his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her hands reached up and around his neck as she gently played with his smooth hair, before they both bent in for more.

"I love you," she purred in between kisses. "So much that it hurts."

"So much that you can't see where it starts and where it ends?" asked Draco as he pulled her on top him as he lay back in the bed.

"Exactly," she whispered as she felt whole again in his arms.

"Hermione?" Draco said suddenly after a long pause.

"Hmmm?"

"Will you go out with me?" Draco said with an endearing smirk.

"What brought that on?" Hermione asked with an amused smile.

"I remember I did promise to take you out properly once all this is over. I'm sticking to that promise."

* * *

Draco and Hermione were seated in a booth in Madame Puddifoot's. The war was officially over for a week now and everything seemed to be back to normal. Except of course that Draco and Hermione were now more uncomfortable with each than ever.

Hermione sat about an arms length away from Draco. And all Draco could do to stop himself from pulling her into a kiss was bite his lip.

"So," Draco said. "What do you want to do?"

Then it was Hermione's turn to bite her lip. She couldn't tell him what she wanted to do without blushing, so she just shrugged.

"Will we always be like this?" he asked, looking at her warily.

She shrugged. She didn't really know.

Draco sighed. What was wrong with them? What was wrong with him? He had what he wanted. He had her. Now what was wrong? Although she made him feel complete, even just by sitting beside him, something was bugging him. They were even more tensed around each other now that they were an actual couple. Maybe they're already complete and there was nothing left to do but stay complete?

'Nah, that couldn't be it,' Draco thought to himself.

"Love?" Hermione whispered as she looked up at him quizzically.

Draco felt a tingle down his spine when he heard Hermione address him in that manner. He smiled and looked at her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all... love," he said, hesitating with that last word. He thought it would come out weird. But it didn't. Rather the word rolled over his tongue naturally like he was born to call her that.

"But we can't stay like this forever," she said with a pout. "You're so far."

"I'm just here," Draco said as he looked at her seriously. "Always."

Hermione smiled and sat a bit closer to him. Draco smiled at her attempt to cover the space between them. He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer.

Hermione rested her head on his chest. "I love being in your arms."

"Good," he said as he enveloped her. "Because I love having you in my arms."

Hermione snuggled even closer into him and sighed with comfort. "I could live in here forever."

"Could you?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head. "Will you? Please?"

"Always," she whispered.

"It doesn't matter how long it took me to find you," he said, tightening his embrace. "What matters is that I got here."

"True," she said with a nod. "Now isn't this more like it?"

"Yeah," he said. "It was cold without you beside me," he continued, giving away his sentiments not just of their current situation, but also of the years that passed.

Hermione smiled. Things had turned out better than she had expected. The war was over. People seemed more hopeful and carefree. Harry was once again and for the final time the hero and everything seemed better already. He and Ginny were slowly patching things up and everything appeared to be in place.

Draco held on to Hermione tightly, never wanting to let go. He hadn't felt this happy in such a long time it made him worry a bit that something really terrible lay in store for him – a reverse karma of sorts. But he casts he doubts aside. He deserved to be happy. And was he ever. His mother was safe in the Malfoy Manor, the war was over, danger never lurked further away than it did at that moment, and best of all, he found love in the most unexpected place.

The bell that hung above the shop's door chimed and they both looked up to see Harry, Ginny and Ron fast approaching their table. The two smiled at the approaching friends.

"Hey guys," Ginny said as she took her seat across from Draco and Hermione. "Cosy date you've got going on. You mind if we spoil it by joining you two?"

Hermione laughed. "Go right ahead."

Draco turned to look at Hermione. "But I promised you a real date," he complained and pouted.

"It's okay love, we have forever," she said as she turned to face him, a smile on her face.

Draco dropped a light feathery kiss on her smile. And within minutes, they were laughing and having a bloody great time that they didn't give a rat's ass whether the dementors were diligently watching over Azkaban. Nothing would hurt them now. All was well.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **And that's that. The end. Finito. FINALLY. I've put off writing this one in such a long time coz I didn't want it to end. At the same time, major writer's block to deal with so I started a few other fics on my way to ending this.

But gratitude is due and I will be granting it… Thanks to all of you who stuck through me while I journeyed on the best ship ever.

Hugs and kisses and confetti go out to:

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I love you guys! Now, if you don't mind. I'm really going to be ending this. Hope you read my other fics. My newest one is the one entitled A TASTE OF FOREVER. Hope you do drop by to read that one. Anyhoo, cheers and lots of love to you all. Tata for now!


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